OLD  FOUR-TOES 

OR 

HUNTERS  OF  THE  PEAKS 

BY 

EDWIN  L.  SABIN 

AUTHOR  OF  "  BAR  B  BOYS,"  "  RANGE  AND  TRAIL," 
"CIRCLE  K,"  ETC. 


Whoo-oop  !      Ow-ow-gn  .      Hay-ah-hay  ! 
Hay-ee-hay  hah-ah-hay  hah-ah-hay  ! 
Whoo-oop  !      Ow-ow-gh  !      Hay-ah-hay  ! 
Hee-ah  hah-ah  hi-yah-hah  ! 
Whoo-oop  !  ! 

— Dance   Song   of   Grizzly    Dan, 


NEW  YORK 

THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1912,  by 
THOMAS  Y.  CROWELL  COMPANY 

Fifth  Thousand 


CHAPTER  CAMPS 


PAOB 


I.  INTO  THE  LTNKNOWN i 

II.  IN  CAMP  WITH  GRIZZLY  DAN     ...     12 

III.  OFF  FOR  LOST  PARK 22 

IV.  THROUGH  MEDICINE  CANON  ....     40 
V.  A  TRIAL  OF  NERVES 54 

VI.  A  CLOSE  SHAVE  FOR  CHET 69 

VII.  THE  MAGIC  LAKES 82 

VIII.  THE  SECRETS  OF  THE  LAKES  ....     98 

IX.  BAD  MEN  IN  THE  PARK 112 

X.  WHITE  INJUNS  AT  HOME 132 

XI.  THE  TRAPPERS'  HOUNDS  VISIT  CAMP  .   147 

XII.  HOSTILE  SIGN 159 

XIII.  "DANCING   MEDICINE" 171 

XIV.  ON  THE  WAR  TRAIL 184 

XV.  OLD  FRIENDS  RED  AND  WHITE   .     .     .  200 

XVI.  TROUBLE  FOR  FOUR-TOES 215 

XVII.  THE  TENDERFEET  BEAR-HUNTERS    .     .  229 

M23084 


vi  CHAPTER  CAMPS 

CHAPTER  PAG2 

XVIII.     TROPHIES  OF  A  BATTLE-FIELD  .... 


XIX.  "HA'R'S  BEEN  LIFTED!"  .....  260 

XX.  MOUNTAIN  MEN  TO  THE  RESCUE  .     .  274 

XXI.  WHITE  MEN  AGAINST  RED  .....  290 

XXII.  THE  DUEL  OF  THE  Two  CHIEFS    .     .  308 

XXIII.  Two  OTHER  OLD  HEROES  .....  325 

XXIV.  THE  GOLD-MINE  MAP  ......  338 


FRIENDLIES  AND  HOSTILES 

Old  Lodges: 

CHET  S.^s*"  I    -F^e  Hunters,  White  Injuns,  Moun- 

tain  Men — Wagh  ! 

GRIZZLY  DAN — Their  Captain  on  the  Trail 
BUSTER — Of  the   Former   Bar   B   Cow   Outfit,   but  now 

"  Dude  Wrangler  " 

Gus — Still  Herding  Sheep,  under  Difficulties 
KITTY— His  Dog,  Who  is  Wiped  Out 
BONITA — White  Injun  Dog,  Who  Springs  a  Surprise 
PETE  THE  ROUND-UP  COOK — Now  again  a  Guide 
CHERRY — In  the  Wilds,  but  not  a  "  Squaw  " 
MOLLY— Still  "Romantic,"  but  Quite  a  Brick 
THE    PROFESSOR — Cherry's    Father,    always    Picking    up 

Things 

CHIEF  BILLY — Whose  Southern  Utes  Prove  Unruly 
CHARLEY  Pow-wow — His  Son,  Sometimes  White,  Some- 
times Indian,  often  Both 

SALLY — Grizzly  Dan's  Long  Rifle,  His  Close  Companion 

PEPPER  AND  MEDICINE  EYE — Relics  from  the  Old  Bar  B 

Horse  Herd,  but  now  Become  Mountain-Man  Ponies 

COTTON-TAIL — Also  from  the  Bar  B  Herd,  and  a  Fine 

"  Pack-Hawss  " 

New  Lodges: 

OLD  FOUR-TOES — Great  Medicine  Bear  of  Lost  Park 
THE  RED  MAN — Poacher  Whose  "  Ha'r  is  raised  " 
THE  BLACK  MAN — His  Partner,  Who  Escapes  to  the 

Enemy 

FOREST  RANGER — Who  Has  a  Large  Country  to  Cover 
VIEJO  CHEYENNE — An  Exile,  Who  Shows  the  Utes  how 

a  Cheyenne  can  Fight  and  Die 
THE  THREE  CITY  HUNTERS — Lawless,  but  Plucky 
BETTY— The  Wise  Dun  Mule 
THE  SPOTTED  PONY — Grizzly  Dan's  Horse 
THE  BIG  BULL— Last  of  the  Buffalo 
UTES — Good  and  Bad 

The  Black  Fox,  the  Black  Wolves,  Red  Chief  Moun- 
tain, Warrior  Peak,  and  Other  "Medicine"  Things 

TRAIL  AND  RENDEZVOUS 
The   Wild   Lost    Park   Region    of   the    Rockies 


OLD  FOUR-TOES 

CHAPTER  I 

INTO    THE    UNKNOWN 

THE  scene  was  typically  Western.  Out  of  the  high 
sky  gloriously  blue  poured  down  the  sun,  generous 
to  sage  and  pine  and  crest  and  stream,  and  to  all  the 
lesser  folk,  bird  and  chipmunk  and  ant,  busy  in  the 
warmth  of  welcome  May.  In  a  valley  ran  a  single- 
track  railroad,  looking  small  amidst  the  greatness  of 
nature.  The  railroad  entered  and  emerged  by  a 
canon  so  high  and  narrow  that  the  portals  seemed 
to  be  holes ;  a  stream  followed  the  track — or  the  track 
followed  the  stream;  and  midway  of  the  valley  was 
a  lone  station. 

Here  the  only  sign  of  life  was  again  thoroughly 
Western :  two  horses,  saddled  with  the  cow-puncher 
saddle  of  high  horn  and  cantle  and  long-hung  ox-bow 
stirrups;  and  a  boy,  in  overalls,  checked  blouse,  red 
kerchief,  and  wide-brimmed  hat,  upon  his  hands  gaunt- 
let gloves  and  upon  his  feet  spurred  "  center-fire " 
boots,  the  heels  high  and  set  well  forward.  The  two 
horses,  one  a  "  blue  "  or  iron-gray,  the  other  a  bright 
bay,  stood  with  lines  and  heads  down,  dozing  in  the 
warmth;  a  black  sheep-dog,  white-collared  and  white- 
chested,  nosed  busily  about,  ferreting  for  chipmunks; 

1 


2  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

the  boy  sat  swinging  his  legs  over  the  platform  edge. 
Inside  the  station  sounded  a  telegraph  key,  ticking 
busily. 

Suddenly  there  echoed  among  the  enclosing  hills  a 
shrill  whistle;  and  like  the  command  of  a  magician 
it  waked  the  valley  world.  The  two  horses  lifted  their 
noses ;  Chet  the  boy  scrambled  to  his  feet,  and  Bonita 
the  dog  came  and  stood  beside  him.  From  the  station 
door  peered  the  agent,  in  shirt-sleeves. 

Out  from  the  mouth  of  the  east  canon  issued  a  belch 
of  smoke,  and,  wearing  this  as  a  plume,  charged  civili- 
zation in  shape  of  a  train.  With  roar  and  whistle  it 
rushed  on ;  and  scarcely  had  it  paused  at  the  station 
when  from  the  steps  of  the  last  coach  sprang  another 
boy.  He  dropped  what  he  was  carrying,  and  with  a 
wild  cow-puncher  whoop  he  and  Chet  dived  at  one 
another.  They  shook  hands. 

The  newcomer  was  slighter  in  build  than  Chet; 
but  he  was  broad-shouldered  and  trim  and  alert.  He 
wore  blue  flannel  shirt,  sombrero  hat,  old  coat  and 
trousers  and  shoes ;  things  old  but  neat  and  respectable 
for  a  train  journey  into  the  heart  of  the  hills. 

Thus,  with  a  whoop  and  a  dive  and  a  shaking  of 
hands,  met  for  another  season  together  Chet  Simms  of 
Colorado  and  Phil  Macowan  of  Chicago:  two  who 
had  shared  the  same  blanket,  in  ranch  and  on  range, 
while  riding  for  the  Bar  B  and  herding  for  the 
Circle  K. 

"Hello!" 

"How!" 

"Hello,  Bonita!  Hello,  old  girl!"  Phil  fondled  the 


INTO    THE    UNKNOWN  3 

black  sheep-dog,  who,  after  a  brief  sniff,  barked  and 
gamboled  her  delight.  "  She  knows  me,  doesn't  she ! 
Good  old  girl!" 

"  Shore  she  does,"  grinned  Chet. 

"  She  shore  does,"  agreed  Phil,  as  broadly,  to  show 
that  he  had  not  forgotten  the  language. 

"That  all  your  stuff?"  asked  Chet,  nodding  at  a 
suit-case,  and  a  carbine  in  leather  sheath. 

"Yes.    When  do  we  start?" 

"  Soon  as  you're  ready." 

"  All  right.  All  I've  got  to  do  is  change  my  stuff 
to  my  war-bag." 

"  Go  ahead.    Hawsses  are  waiting." 

"  Good !  What  are  they?  I  see :  Pepper  and  Medi- 
cine Eye.  Hello,  Pepper.  Want  to  have  another  trip  ? 
Hello,  old  Medicine  Eye."  The  horses  pricked  their 
ears.  "  Which  do  I  ride?  Pepper?  Reckon  so,  by  the 
looks  of  the  saddle." 

"Yes;  he's  yores." 

"  Bueno.  Now  I'll  change  my  stuff.  Don't  need 
chaps,  do  I  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  I'll  leave  my  suit-case  with  the  agent." 

"  He'll  take  care  of  it.  You  can  get  it  when  you 
come  out  in  the  Fall." 

"Where's  Dan?"  called  back  Phil,  from  the  door 
of  the  station. 

"  Waiting  for  us,  out  in  the  hills." 

"  Bueno.  You  sling  the  gun  to  the  saddle,  and  I'll 
be  ready  in  a  jiffy." 

Bonita  trotted  faithfully  into  the  station  after  her 


4  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

master.  Although  six  months  had  elapsed  since  upon 
taking  train  for  home  and  the  city  Phil  had  apparently 
deserted  her  and  Chet  had  become  her  keeper,  now  she 
had  immediately  resumed  the  old  bonds  of  loyalty. 
Phil  was  her  master,  once  and  forever.  They  had 
followed  the  sheep  together;  and  it  was  to  Phil  that 
Luis  the  Californian  had  consigned  her.  Under 
Bonita's  silky  coat  and  behind  her  white  chest  beat  a 
heart  very  true. 

Chet  tied  the  carbine  boot  or  scabbard  to  the  sad- 
dle of  the  blue  horse.  The  stock  of  the  carbine,  pro- 
jecting, showed  a  long  gash  in  the  wood,  as  if  a 
bullet  had  plowed  along  through.  And  so  it  had,  for 
this  was  a  carbine  with  a  history:  the  carbine  once 
possessed  by  the  outlaw  man  with  the  frozen  smile, 
in  Phil's  first  experience  with  the  Bar  B  round-up; 
and  the  scar  was  a  reminder  of  a  scrimmage  with  the 
outlaw  lame  man,  terrible  Joe. 

Having  slung  the  carbine,  Chet  fussed  about  the 
horses,  patting  their  noses  and  tightening  the  cinches. 
But  he  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  in  less  than  ten 
minutes  Phil  was  out  again.  Now  he,  too,  wore  over- 
alls— newer  than  Chet's ;  he  was  in  vest  and  blue  shirt- 
sleeves, a  blue  kerchief  at  his  throat ;  on  his  hands  were 
fringed  gauntlets,  on  his  feet  were  "  center-fire  "  boots 
of  cow-puncher  service,  their  spurs  clinking  as  he 
strode.  He  carried  a  canvas  sack,  which  evidently  con- 
tained his  extra  clothing,  etc. 

"  All  right,"  he  announced,  tying  the  sack  and  an 
old  canvas  coat  behind  the  saddle.  "  Whoa,  Pepper." 
He  gathered  the  lines,  and  turned  the  horse  around 


INTO    THE   UNKNOWN  5 

broadside.  His  left  hand  resting  on  the  mane,  with 
his  right  hand  he  turned  the  left  stirrup  so  as  to  thrust 
his  left  toe  through  it ;  then  with  his  right  hand  shifted 
to  the  horn  he  deftly  swung  aboard — landing  plump 
in  the  saddle.  He  was  no  tenderfoot,  was  Phil  Ma- 
cowan  ;  he  had  ridden  the  range.  Chet  of  course  had 
been  born  to  it. 

At  the  squeeze  of  Phil's  knee  'Pepper  with  a  jump 
broke  into  a  gallop,  as  if  recognizing  the  fact  that  a 
previous  master  was  upon  his  back;  but  Phil  pulled  him 
down  to  a  trot,  and  patted  his  neck  as  Chet  drew 
alongside. 

"Jiminy!"  sighed  Phil.  "But  this  feels  good  to 
have  a  hawss  between  my  legs  again.  Beats  street- 
cars." 

"  It  shore  must,"  confirmed  Chet,  gravely. 

"How  far  back  is  Dan?" 

"  Ten  miles ;  he's  over  on  the  Big  White,  where  he 
can't  hear  an  engine  whistle.  He  won't  come  near 
a  railroad." 

"  Guess  not,"  agreed  Phil,  wisely.  "  Where's  he 
going  to  take  us?  Do  you  know  yet?" 

"  Into  the  Lost  Park  country,  maybe." 

"Whereabouts  is  that?" 

"  Over  across  the  Horsefly  Range.  Don't  believe 
anybody's  ever  been  in  it,  much.  It's  too  rough — all 
full  of  brush  and  gulches." 

"What's  there?" 

"  Bear  and  sheep  and  deer  and  elk ;  and  buffalo,  too, 
people  say.  It's  so  rough  hunters  can't  get  in  to  kill 
'em  off." 


6  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Whew !  "  gasped  Phil.    "  Sounds  good,  anyway." 

"  We'll  see,  all  right.  Dad  says  that  if  Grizzly  Dan 
doesn't  know  what's  in  there,  no  one  does." 

"  How  is  your  father?  " 

"  Fine.  He's  going  to  quit  sheep  this  year.  When 
that  irrigating  reservoir  is  finished,  we'll  ranch  it,  for 
hay  and  cattle  and  other  stuff." 

"How's  old  Jess?" 

"  Kind  of  stiff  after  his  winter's  rheumatism.  He 
can't  do  much." 

"  Well,  he's  done  his  share,"  asserted  Phil 

"  He  shore  has.     Punched  cows  forty  years." 

"Ever  hear  from  Ford?" 

"  He's  home  in  Boston,  but  he  doesn't  like  it.  He's 
coming  back — he  and  Billy  Adams.  You  remember 
Adams, — that  Box  outfit  herder?  " 

Yes,  Phil  remembered  him.  He  was  the  Yale  man, 
herding  sheep  for  his  health.  Ford  (who  was  Ford 
Dexter  of  the  Bar  B  and  the  Circle  K)  and  he  had 
played  against  each  other  in  Yale-Harvard  football 
games,  before  they  met  so  unexpectedly,  last  summer, 
amidst  the  sage  of  the  sheep  range. 

"Where  are  Pete  and  Buster?" 

Pete  was  the  tall,  thin  Irish  round-up  cook  and  ex- 
cowboy,  part  of  the  old  Bar  B  outfit ;  Buster  was  the 
small,  wiry,  pugnacious  puncher  who  hated  sheep. 

"  Pete's  been  working  in  town,  in  a  restaurant ; 
Buster's  still  with  the  Saddle  X." 

"  Wonder  if  we'll  run  across  Cherry  and  the  Pro- 
fessor again  this  year?" 

Cherry  was  the  girl  rescued  by  the  Bar  B  from  the 


INTO    THE    UNKNOWN  7 

three  rustlers  and  outlaws :  the  Man  with  the  Limp, 
the  Man  with  the  One  Eye,  and  the  Man  with  the 
Frozen  Smile ;  and  the  Professor  was  her  father,  who 
lectured  on  archaeology,  in  a  college.  A  very  absent- 
minded  man,  he,  who  met  with  much  trouble. 

"  Don't  know,"  answered  Chet.  "  Pete  says  they're 
wanting  to  go  on  another  camping  trip  this  summer — 
they  and  that  girl  Molly.  He'll  take  'em,  if  they  do 

go." 

"  Maybe  we'll  run  across  them,  then." 

Chet  shook  his  head,   solemnly. 

"  Not  in  Lost  Park,  I  reckon.  Old  Dan  says  he'll 
take  us  where  we'll  have  to  be  white  Injuns  in  order 
to  live.  It  won't  be  any  place  for  girls  or  tender- 
feet." 

The  prospect  gave  Phil  a  peculiar,  delightful  little 
thrill  of  anticipation.  "White  Injuns!"  That 
sounded  good.  But  he  was  ready  for  it.  After  having 
ridden  after  cattle  and  trudged  after  sheep,  and  met 
whatever  crisis  came  from  man,  weather,  and  beast, 
Phil  felt  himself  prepared  to  be  "  white  Injun,"  what- 
ever that  was. 

Exchanging  reminiscences  and  calling  over  the  roll 
of  mutual  friends  (most  of  whom  were  personages  of 
the  open  range),  the  two  boys  pressed  on.  They 
climbed  the  first  ridge — Chet  leading,  on  the  trail, 
lines  loose  and  one  foot  out  of  the  stirrup  so  that  with 
his  leg  also  loose  he  was  half  turned,  in  the  saddle,  to 
gossip.  Phil  on  Pepper  followed  close. 

At  the  crest  of  the  ridge  Chet  pulled  short,  and 
swung  from  the  saddle  to  the  sage.  "  Want  a  drink?  " 


8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

he  queried,  as  he  left  Medicine  Eye  to  stand  panting 
after  the  climb.  "  Great  spring  up  here." 

"  Sure,"  answered  Phil,  leaving  Pepper. 

The  spring  welled  from  under  a  ledge;  it  was  a 
clear,  bubbling  spring — and  visitors  had  scooped  out  a 
basin  for  it  and  had  furnished  it  with  a  battered  tin 
can. 

"  You  first,"  bade  Chet.    "  I'm  not  extra  thirsty." 

The  water  looked  very  inviting.  Phil  brimmed 
the  can  and  started  on  a  long  swig — but  with  the  first 
draught  he  abruptly  quit,  astonished.  Chet  laughed 
and  chuckled. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Regular  soda  water !  "  gasped  Phil. 

"  Go  ahead  and  drink,"  bade  Chet.  "  It's  bully. 
Won't  hurt  you.  You  could  drink  a  gallon.  Isn't 
it  fine?" 

"  It  shore  is,"  affirmed  Phil,  again  plunging  his  lips 
into  the  can.  "  Phew !  "  He  paused  for  breath  and 
examined  critically  can  and  spring.  [<  Where  does 
it  come  from  ?  " 

"  Don't  know.  Follows  some  water-bearing  rock 
from  higher  up,  I  reckon.  Done  ?  " 

"  For  a  minute."     Phil  surrendered  the  can. 

Yes,  it  certainly  was  fine,  that  water.  It  sparkled 
and  fumed,  and  %as  full  of  dancing  motes  like  minute 
crystals;  it  was  cold  and  crisp  and  stung  the  tongue, 
and  tasted  not  at  all  unlike  a  lemon  phosphate  at  the 
soda  fountain.  Oddly  enough  was  it  situated,  here  on 
the  crest  of  the  ridge,  a  thousand  feet  over  the  valley 
and  track  below.  As  Phil  took  another  hearty  swig, 


IXTO    THE    UNKNOWN  9 

Bonita  came  crashing  through  the  sage.  She  trotted 
to  the  spring,  where  as  a  little  rivulet  it  flowed  over 
the  basin,  and  she  started  to  lap.  As  the  effervescence 
struck  her  nostrils,  she  gave  a  surprised  jump  back- 
ward. While  the  boys  laughed,  she  tried  in  several 
places — at  last  venturing  to  proceed  and  drink.  She, 
too,  seemed  to  like  it,  once  she  had  swallowed  a  few 
tonguefuls. 

'  That's  nothing,  though,"  declared  Chet,  as  he  and 
Phil  remounted.  tf  Grizzly  Dan  says  that  over  in  the 
Lost  Park  country  there  are  all  kinds  of  springs  and 
lakes.  He'll  show  them  to  us." 

The  trail  traversed  the  ridge  which,  gravelly  and 
covered  with  only  sage  brush,  gave  a  wide  view  of 
the  country  round  about.  A  splendid  country  it  was: 
of  mesas  or  table-lands,  brush-cloaked  and  pine-dotted, 
with  white-rimmed  mountains  showing  against  the 
horizon  north  and  west. 

"  Lost  Park's  beyond  that  divide,"  pointed  Chet. 
"  See?  Where  the  saw-tooth  range  is." 

"  How  do  we  get  in?  " 

"By  Horsethief  Pass  there's  a  trail.  Old  Dan'll 
know  other  ways.  But  Horsethief  is  bad  enough.  It's 
a  trail  halfway  along  the  wall  of  a  canon  and  only 
about  two  feet  wide;  so  one  leg  scrapes  the  rock  and 
the  other  dangles  over  a  thousand  feet  of  nothing. 
If  you  meet  a  burro  train  or  anything  else,  one  of  you 
lies  down  and  the  other  jumps,  I  guess,  like  goats." 

The  Horsethief  Trail  sounded  attractive. 

The  trail  left  the  ridge;  and  down  the  slope  the 
boys  pressed  at  a  trot,  standing  in  their  stirrups  and 


io  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

leaning  forward  upon  the  saddle-horns,  to  ease  the 
jar.  Chet  led  right  along,  without  asking  his  partner 
whether  the  gait  was  too  hard ;  and  Phil,  soft  though 
he  was  after  a  winter  in  the  city,  desired  no  favors. 
The  ten  miles  must  be  covered. 

So  it  was  jog,  jog,  jog,  by  the  winding  cow-trail 
which  ever  before  threaded  sage  and  aspen  and  cedar 
and  jack-pines.  Chet  followed  it  unerringly.  Flop, 
flop,  flop  went  the  saddles,  with  steady  cadence,  and 
Bonita,  tired,  loped  stolidly  behind,  tongue  out. 

The  trail  had  been  skirting  a  stream,  which  rippled 
among  willows  and  pines,  lining  the  bottom  of  a  gulch. 

"  There  are  bear  in  here,"  volunteered  Chet. 
"  Some  fellows  from  Oro  caught  two  cubs  on  top  the 
mesa  last  week.  Treed  'em  with  dogs.  The  old 
mother  ran  off." 

"  Didn't  she  stay  with  her  cubs?  " 

"  Naw,"  said  Chet.  "  They  tried  to  make  her  come 
back — they  poked  the  cubs  and  hurt  them  to  make  them 
squeal,  but  she  didn't  come.  So  they  roped  the  cubs 
and  tied  them  and  carried  them  down  to  Oro.  One 
was  hurt  so  it  died,  though.  I  don't  believe  in  running 
bear  with  dogs.  It  doesn't  give  the  bear  a  show.  He 
climbs  a  tree  and  then  you  can  shoot  him  out  like  a 
squirrel." 

Phil  agreed. 

"  Camp's  right  over  beyond  this  point,"  volunteered 
Chet.  "  Hope  supper's  ready.  That  water  made  me 
hungry;  didn't  it  you?  " 

The  trail  had  emerged  from  the  sparse  timber  into 
a  natural  meadow,  with  flowers  and  grass;  a  side 


INTO    THE   UNKNOWN  11 

valley  must  come  in  beyond,  for  a  swell  of  high  ground 
projected  from  the  left,  ahead. 

"  That  looks  like  old  Dan  himself — looks  like  his 
hawss !  "  exclaimed  Phil,  suddenly. 

"  Tis." 

"What's  he  doing,  then?" 

"  Don't  know.  Making  medicine,  maybe.  Acts  as 
if  he  was  chasing  a  mouse,  doesn't  he!  "  grunted  Chet, 
curious. 

For  upon  the  smooth  swell  or  tongue,  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  ahead,  a  man  on  a  horse  that  even  at  the  dis- 
tance could  be  picked  out  as  a  spotted  horse,  was  per- 
forming oddly — dashing  furiously  around  and  around 
in  a  series  of  loops.  Now  he  halted  and  waved  a 
blanket;  and  abruptly  he  came  down  at  the  full  speed 
of  his  mount,  directly  for  the  two  boys. 


CHAPTER    II 

IN  CAMP  WITH  GRIZZLY  DAN 

"  WHAT'S  the  matter?    Crazy?  "  ejaculated  Phil. 

"  Don't  know.  Must  be  something  the  matter," 
muttered  Chet,  fumbling  at  the  stock  of  his  rifle.  He 
spurred  Medicine  Eye  off  the  trail  and  jerked  out 
the  weapon. 

Phil,  imitating,  spurred  Pepper  to  the  other  side 
and  extracted  his  carbine. 

"What  had  we  better  do?" 

"  Nothing,  till  we  see  what  he  does." 

"  Maybe  he's  just  trying  to  scare  us." 

"  Well,  we  don't  scare,"  grunted  Chet,  stubbornly. 

And  they  didn't — not  Chet,  anyway;  and  if  Phil 
sometimes  "  scared "  inside,  he  was  careful  not  to 
show  it,  outside! 

On  came  at  headlong  gallop  the  horseman.  He 
stood  in  his  stirrups,  and  one  hand  held  high  a  long- 
barreled  gun;  a  long  white  beard  streamed  in  the 
breeze,  and  from  under  the  flaring-back  brim  of  a 
round-crowned  hat  streamed  long  white  hair  also.  He 
was  seen  to  be  dressed  in  leathery  stuff;  across  his  lap 
was  thrown  a  blanket — probably  the  same  which  he 
had  waved  from  the  swell.  And  now  from  the  muzzle 
of  his  gun,  flourished  high,  puffed  a  whitish  cloud, 
and  a  sharp  report  echoed  past  the  boys'  ears. 

12 


IN    CAMP    WITH    GRIZZLY    DAN        13 

"  Guess  he  means  that  for  welcome,"  ventured  Chet, 
in  a  tone  of  relief. 

"  Guess  so,"  agreed  Phil. 

The  white-whiskered,  white-locked  old  rider  emitted 
a  long,  shrill  whoop,  peculiar  and  piercing;  and  not 
until  he  was  virtually  on  top  of  the  waiting  pair  did 
he  speak  a  word  or  slacken  the  pace.  Between  them 
he  halted  so  sharply,  cowboy  fashion,  that  his  pinto 
horse  plowed  the  trail  with  its  fore  hoofs. 

"Wagh!"  he  grunted.  "  Hyar's  how,"  and  he 
reached  out  a  sinewy  hand  to  Phil.  "  How  are  ye, 
boy?" 

"  All  right,"  answered  Phil,  catching  his  breath 
again,  after  the  moment  of  suspense. 

The  newcomer  nodded  to  Chet.  He  was  an  old — 
yes,  one  might  call  him  a  very  old  man,  as  to  years. 
His  white  locks  met  and  mingled  with  his  full  white 
beard,  his  skin  was  yellow  and  wrinkled,  his  form 
spare ;  but  he  sat  his  spotted,  foaming  horse  easily,  and 
through  the  hair  of  his  lean  face  two  blue  eyes  twinkled 
keenly.  He  was  clad  all  in  blackened,  worn  buckskin — 
loose  shirt  like  a  coat  falling  outside  of  leggins-trou- 
sers  open  at  the  thigh  and  belted  at  the  waist,  with 
moccasins  upon  his  feet.  The  buckskin  shirt  and  leg- 
gins  were  fringed  with  thongs  once  stained  scarlet, 
but  now  dingy  brick,  and  shirt  and  moccasins  were  em- 
broidered with  beads.  Beneath  the  loose  coat  was 
a  flannel  shirt  of  the  ordinary  kind,  open  at  the  throat. 
The  blanket  across  his  knees  was  a  black-and-white 
striped  Navajo.  One  lean  brown  hand  grasped  easily 
a  regulation  old-timer  muzzle-loading  rifle;  a  flintlock, 


14  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

too;  barrel  three  feet  long,  evidently,  set  to  a  slim- 
necked,  well-dropped  stock  of  polished  walnut;  the 
whole  gun  must  have  stood  five  feet.  He  swiftly  re- 
loaded, as  he  said: 

"  I  been  watchin'  for  ye.  Did  you  read  my  signals  ?  " 

"  Not  exactly/'  confessed  Phil. 

"  Thought  mebbe  you  didn't,  by  the  way  you  spread 
out  when  I  come  on,"  chuckled  the  old  man.  "  Fust 
I  rode  zigzag  to  attract  attention.  Then  I  made  the 
blanket  signal  to  come  along,  game  is  waitin'.  Then 
I  rode  to  meet  ye,  full-dash,  reg'lar  trapper  fashion; 
but  when  I  see  ye  separating  suspicious,  I  fired  off  my 
gun  in  the  air  to  let  you  know  I  war  a  friend,  comin' 
with  gun  empty." 

"  Huh !  "  grunted  Chet.  "  We  thought  you'd  gone 
crazy." 

"  Those  air  signals — those  air  sign,"  reproved  the 
old  man.  "  If  you  mean  to  be  white  Injuns,  you  got 
to  read  Injun  an'  mountain-man  sign-talk.  O'  course," 
and  he  chuckled  again,  through  his  white  whiskers,  as 
they  rode  along  at  easy  trot,  "  thar  ain't  game  in  sight, 
'cept  what's  in  the  pot." 

"  That's  enough  for  me!  "  declared  Phil.  "  I  shore 
am  hungry." 

"  So  am  I,"  spoke  Chet. 

"  Leetle  wolfish  myself,"  averred  Grizzly  Dan. 
'  To-night  we'll  have  a  feast,  so's  to  fill  up  'fore  we 
take  the  long  trail.  Pot's  bilin'." 

Riding  smoothly,  but  with  short  stirrups  instead  of 
long,  and  with  knees  well  bent  (a  style  opposite  to  the 
cowboy  style),  on  his  spotted  pony,  his  long  hair  float- 


IN    CAMP    WITH    GRIZZLY    DAN        15 

ing  and  his  long  rifle  across  saddle-horn,  the  old  man 
led,  just  as  he  had  led  on  wilder  trails,  in  many  a  year 
gone  by.  At  the  point  of  higher  land  where  he  had 
first  been  sighted  he  turned,  to  ascend  a  side  valley. 
This  narrowed,  on  both  sides  of  a  rollicking  stream, 
and  opened  into  a  small  park,  of  aspens  and  cedars  and 
grass,  with  a  spring  trickling  from  the  hither  slope. 

Evidently  here  was  the  camp.  A  raw-boned  roan 
horse,  with  white  tail,  and  a  small  clay-colored  mule, 
picketed  out,  lifted  their  heads  for  a  moment's  survey 
of  the  arrivals,  ere  resuming  their  busy  cropping. 

"  There's  Cotton-tail!  "  exclaimed  Phil,  recognizing 
one  of  them. 

"  Yes.  Dad  let  us  take  her.  She's  a  boss  pack 
hawss,"  explained  Chet.  "  That  mule  is  Grizzly  Dan's 
pack  animal.  She's  a  dandy.  Knows  as  much  as  a 
dog." 

In  the  open  a  fire  was  blazing  around  a  large  black 
kettle  hung  over  it  from  a  stout  pole  slanting,  with  one 
end  stuck  in  the  ground,  against  a  crotched  peg;  from 
the  tip  dangled  the  kettle.  Camp  equipage  of  blanket 
rolls  and  tarpaulins,  panniers,  pack-saddles,  and  a  few 
eating  utensils,  formed  a  pile,  against  which  leaned 
the  short-handled  camp  ax. 

"  Off-saddle  and  turn  out  yore  bosses,"  bade  Grizzly 
Dan,  hospitably,  suiting  the  action  to  the  word. 
"  Hobble  'em  or  picket  'em,  either.  Reckon  no 
hostiles  air  around  to  cut  the  ropes  or  stampede  our 
stock.  But  I've  seed  the  time  when  I  daren't  go  to 
sleep  without  the  bosses  brought  up  to  the  fire,  and  the 
picket-rope  in  my  hand."  He  had  turned  his  own  horse 


1 6  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

loose,  and  now  stepped  briskly  to  the  kettle  on  the  fire. 
He  lifted  the  cover;  a  cloud  of  steam  rose — and  it 
seemed  to  Phil,  busy  adjusting  the  hobbles  on  Pepper, 
that  he  could  smell  the  aroma.  "  Wagh !  "  muttered 
the  old  man,  satisfied.  "  Hyar's  fat  meat  a-waitin' ! 
How  you  feelin',  compafieros — still  wolfish?" 

"  You  bet !  "    The  reply  was  simultaneous. 

"  Draw  nigh,  draw  nigh,  then,"  invited  the  host. 
And  he  raised  his  voice  like  a  crier :  "  Hibbolo,  hibbolo ! 
Come  everybody !  Vip-po-nah  gives  a  feast  to  Veheo- 
kiss !  "  He  cast  a  sly  glance  at  the  boys'  mystified 
faces,  and  chuckled  as  he  removed  the  cover  from  the 
kettle.  "  Reckon  you  don't  savvy  yet,"  he  vouchsafed. 
"  Vip-po-nah  is  '  Lean  Chief '  an'  Veheo-kiss  is 
Cheyenne  for  *  young  white  man/  I  war  jest  follerin' 
the  custom  when  a  man  gives  a  feast  in  an  Injun 
village.  But  draw  up,  draw  up."  Into  the  plates  he 
ladled  out  an  enormous  quantity  of  whitish  meat  boiled 
to  shreds,  and  forming  a  thick  gravy  in  which  floated 
dumplings  of  dough.  "  Hyar — wait  a  minute.  We 
must  do  this  right,  or  our  medicine  on  the  hunt  will 
be  bad."  He  pulled  from  his  shirt  pocket  a  short 
black  pipe,  and  filling  it,  lighted  it.  He  pointed  the 
stem  down,  and  up,  and  to  right  and  to  left;  then  he 
took  four  puffs,  blowing  the  smoke  just  as  he  had 
pointed  the  pipe  itself.  He  passed  the  pipe  to  Phil. 

"  I  don't  smoke,  thank  you,"  said  Phil. 

"  I  don't,  either,"  giggled  Chet. 

"  Wall,  now,  you  needn't,"  answered  Grizzly  Dan. 
'  You're  too  young.  I'll  make  medicine  for  the  hull 
of  us.  Know  what  I  war  doin'  ?  " 


IN    CAMP    WITH    GRIZZLY   DAN        17 

They  shook  their  heads. 

"  I  war  makin'  medicine.  I  war  offerin'  the  pipe  to 
the  'arth,  an'  the  sky,  an'  the  four  winds,  wishin' 
'em  to  give  us  good  luck  on  our  hunt.  That's  Injun 
way.  But  now  let's  fill  our  meat-bags.  Wagh!  " 

The  old  man  ate  in  a  peculiar  style,  using  only  his 
hunting-knife ;  a  style  rather  frowned  upon  by  civiliza- 
tion. However,  Chet  had  brought  along  camp  knives 
and  forks  and  tin  plates,  so  that  he  and  Phil  were 
supplied  with  the  requirements  of  table  manners.  The 
stew  was  bully !  Phil  thought  that  he  never  had  tasted 
anything  better;  and  Chet  also  grunted  approval. 

"  Help  yoreself.  Fill  up,  fill  up,"  encouraged 
Grizzly  Dan.  "  It's  fat  cow  to-day,  but  mebbe  it's  pore 
bull  to-morrow.  So  fill  yore  meat-bags  while  you  can. 
That's  mountain  way." 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  queried  Phil,  heaping  his  plate  again. 
"Rabbit?" 

"  Wagh !  "  denied  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Guess  agin.  Did 
you  ever  hear  o'  givin'  a  feast  o'  rabbit?  Dawg,  boy, 
dawg.  That's  feast  meat." 

*  This  isn't  dog !  "  Phil  drew  back  from  his  platter, 
eying  it.  "Is  it?" 

"Dog!"  gurgled  Chet,  pausing  with  fork  half 
lifted.  ' 

"  Dawg,"  nodded  Grizzly  Dan.  "  How  you  like  it? 
If  thar's  any  meat  that  runs,  'cept  painter,  can  take  the 
shine  ofFn  dawg,  I'll  eat  my  moccasins." 

Phil  must  stand. 

"  I  didn't  know  it  was  dog  meat,"  he  stammered, 
feeling  queer. 


i8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"I  didn't,  either/'  said  Chet,  thickly.  "Thought 
it  was  rabbit.  Whose  dog?  " 

"  Set,  set/'  chuckled  the  old  man.  "  Needn't  be 
squeamish.  After  all,  it  's  nothin'  but  pre-airie  dawg, 
an'  I  guess  thar  ain't  much  difference  'tween  pre-airie 
dawg  an'  rabbit.  But  a  dawg  feast's  the  only  proper 
feast  when  guests  arrive  in  camp,  an'  I  come  as  near  to 
it  as  I  could." 

"Oh,"  gasped  Phil.  "Prairie  dog!"  He  sat 
down,  rather  dubiously. 

Chet  proceeded  to  eat. 

"  It's  good,  anyhow,"  he  declared.  "  I've  heard  of 
people  eating  prairie  dogs.  Buster  always  said 
they  were  fine.  Don't  see  why  they  shouldn't  be; 
they  live  on  roots  and  grass,  about  the  same  as 
rabbits." 

"  Of  course,"  agreed  Phil,  starting  in  again — rather 
gingerly,  but  with  suddenly  alert  appetite. 

"  You'd  eat  wuss,  if  you'd  foller  the  beaver  long," 
spoke  Grizzly  Dan,  emphatically.  "  Everything's 
meat  to  the  mountain  man  an'  the  white  Injun.  Wagh ! 
I've  eat  wolf  an'  I've  eat  coyote,  an'  I've  eat  magpie ; 
an'  I've  toasted  my  moccasins  an'  biled  my  trap-sack ; 
yes,  an'  I've  eat  crickets  an'  rattle-snake.  Had  to  do  it. 
But  thar's  nothin'  shines  with  painter  meat,  which  is 
cat ;  an'  after  that  comes  fat  dawg ;  an'  after  that  comes 
fat  young  hos;  an'  after  that  comes  buff'ler  cow,  an' 
beaver  tail  an'  antelope  an'  venison  an'  mountain 
mutton." 

"  Is  bear  as  good  as  venison?  "  queried  Phil.  "  I 
never  ate  any." 


IN    CAMP    WITH    GRIZZLY    DAN        19 

"  I  don't  like  it  very  well,"  announced  diet.  "  Or 
elk  either." 

"  A  yearlin'  b'ar  in  the  Fall  when  he's  plump  is  same 
as  pig,  only  he's  redder  an'  he's  got  a  game  taste," 
declared  old  Dan.  "Ain't  ye  never  ate  b'ar?  Sho' ! 
Wall,  you'll  eat  it  'fore  I'm  done  with  you.  You'll 
eat  him  or  he'll  eat  you,  mebbe.  Wagh !  Over  in  the 
country  whar  we're  goin'  lives  Old  Four-Toes.  Ever 
hear  of  Old  Four-Toes  ?  " 

"I  have,"  exclaimed  Chet.  "Is  that  where  he 
ranges  now  ?  Nobody's  seen  him  lately." 

"  That's  whar  he  ranges,"  confirmed  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  I  seed  his  tracks  last  fall." 

"  Did  you  trail  him?  "  asked  Chet,  eagerly. 

Grizzly  Dan  laughed  his  chuckling  laugh. 

"  No,  boy,  I  didn't  trail  him.  I  crossed  his  trail,  an' 
he  went  on  one  way  an'  I  went  on  t'other.  We  let 
each  other  alone — in  that  big  country  whar  thar's  room 
enough  for  us  both." 

"  Who's  Four-Toes?  "  queried  Phil. 

"  A  big  old  silver-tip — big  as  a  cow,  and  with  only 
four  toes  on  one  foot,"  answered  Chet.  "  He's  been 
around  for  ten  years,  and  he's  plumb  full  of  bullets,  but 
nobody's  been  able  to  get  him,  yet.  He's  too  tough  and 
too  smart.  He  lost  a  toe  in  a  trap,  is  all.  But  I  didn't 
know  he  was  in  the  Lost  Park  country." 

Grizzly  Dan  nodded. 

"  He's  than  I  know  his  track.  I've  seed  it  on  the 
Los  Pinos,  down  south  o'  hyar,  an'  I've  seed  it  in  the 
Lone  Cone  country,  at  the  Utah  line,  an'  I've  seed  it  as 
fur  north  as  Wyoming.  That  b'ar  has  covered  a  heap 


20  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

o'  country.  He's  a  medicine  b'ar.  That's  what  the 
Injuns  say,  an'  I  sorter  think  so  myself.  Lead  or 
flint  or  horn  or  steel  never  can  tech  him.  He's 
medicine.  He's  a  spirit  in  b'ar  shape." 

"  I'd  hate  to  have  to  eat  him,"  giggled  Chet,  the 
practical.  "  Real  dog  would  be  better.  But  I  don't 
reckon  we'll  eat  him — or  buffalo  or  beaver-tail  or 
antelope,  either.  You  'don't  often  see  those  critters 
nowadays ;  do  you,  Phil !  " 

"  Wall,  boy,"  mused  Grizzly  Dan,  slowly,  "  we  white 
Injuns  are  on  the  trail  for  a  country  whar  you're  liable 
to  sight  'most  anything.  That  thar's  a  country  left 
pretty  much  as  it  war  made,  'fore  the  settler  an'  the 
game  butcher  spiled  it." 

"Lost  Park?  "asked  Phil. 

Grizzly  Dan  nodded. 

"  Over  in  what  they  call  Lost  Park.  We  used  to 
call  it  our  market,  'cause  we  could  go  in  thar  'most  any 
time  an'  come  out  with  meat-bags  filled  an'  pack- 
hosses  loaded.  We  used  to  say,  in  lean  time :  *  Let's 
go  to  market,'  an*  we  warn't  often  disapp'inted. 
Injuns  hunted  thar,  too;  but  it  war  sort  o'  neutral 
ground,  whar  a  man  white  or  red  might  go  an'  get 
strong  for  the  beaver  trail  or  the  war  path  agin.  But 
that  war  many  years  ago,  though  I've  been  goin'  thar, 
occasionally,  ever  since." 

He  shook  the  ashes  from  his  pipe,  and  stood.  The 
evening  chores  were  to  be  done.  But  Lost  Park  also 
waited,  and  it  was  famed  among  old-time  trappers  and 
hunters,  and  it  still  was  unexplored,  unraided,  a 
treasure-trove  of  wild  things  and  the  home  of  Old 


IN    CAMP    WITH    GRIZZLY    DAN        21 

Four-Toes.  The  various  pictures  thronged  Phil's 
mind,  as  now  he  and  Chet  washed  the  few  dishes,  and 
Bonita  licked  up  the  scraps,  and  old  Dan  attended  to 
shifting  the  picketed  animals  to  fresh  feed. 

The  kettle,  with  what  remained  in  it  of  the  stew, 
was  set  to  one  side.  The  beds  were  unrolled  and 
spread :  the  ancient  Navajo  blanket,  white  and  black,  a 
quilt  and  tarpaulin,  for  Grizzly  Dan ;  blankets,  a  couple 
of  quilts,  and  a  tarp,  for  the  boys.  There  was  no  tent. 
But  this  mattered  not  to  Phil  and  Chet,  who  many  and 
many  a  night  had  slept  out  on  round-up,  drive,  and 
herd.  And  of  course  it  mattered  not  to  the  hardy  old 
trapper. 

"  We're  mountain  men,  wagh !  "  he  explained.  "  A 
buff'ler-robe,  an'  a  spruce  when  it  rains,  air  enough  for 
us.  But  when  we  get  to  rendezvous  in  market  country, 
thar's  an  old  shack  we  can  use  to  cache  ourselves  in. 
Water,  wood,  an'  meat,  an'  plenty  pelts — that's  rich 
livin'.  Wagh!  Now,  don't  you  boys  mind  my 
movin'  about  in  the  night.  I'm  liable  to  get  a  leetle 
hungry  agin.  If  you  begin  to  feel  wolfish  yoreselves, 
thar's  meat  in  the  pot." 


CHAPTER  III 

OFF   FOR   LOST    PARK 

IT  seemed  good  to  be  snuggled  again  beside  Chet, 
flat  on  the  ground,  with  the  open  air  all  around  and 
the  stars  above;  and  Phil  lay  for  a  few  minutes 
luxuriously  awake,  gazing  up  into  the  twinkling, 
sparkling  ceiling  overhead.  He  saw  the  Big  Dipper, 
which  was  the  Great  Bear,  and  he  found  the  North 
Star  and  the  Little  Bear.  Thence  his  eyes  wandered 
back  to  the  Great  Bear,  which  reminded  him  of  Old 
Four-Toes ;  and  Old  Four-Toes  reminded  him  of  Lost 
Park ;  and  Lost  Park  reminded  him  of  beaver,  buffalo, 
panthers  (which  Grizzly  Dan  had  termed  "  painters  :'), 
elk,  and  other  creatures  of  fur,  hoof,  and  horn,  which 
he  never  had  expected  to  see  wild ;  and  these  reminded 
him  of  the  various  delicacies  of  which  old  Dan  had 
spoken — beaver-tail,  horse,  "  painter  meat,"  etc. ;  and 
these  reminded  him  of  the  comfortable  state  of  his  own 
stomach,  and  set  him  to  wondering  whether  Grizzly 
Dan  really  intended  to  make  another  meal  ere  morn- 
ing! 

Chet  was  gurgling  and  sighing,  hard  asleep.  Chet 
never  seemed  to  lie  awake;  he  made  bed  a  business, 
and  settled  down  and  closed  his  eyes  and  put  in  every 
minute.  Phil  was  now  too  recently  from  city  and 
mattress  and  room,  to  close  his  eyes  and  sleep  at 

22 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  23 

demand.  But  while  in  the  midst  of  his  mental  wander- 
ings, punctuated  by  Chefs  happy  gurgles  and  the 
grunts  of  the  dozing  horses,  and  the  rising  and  turn- 
ing around  of  Bonita,  beside  the  fire  (where  she  was 
curled,  like  a  huge  caterpillar),  he  also  dropped  off. 

He  was  aroused  in  the  night  by  the  figure  of  old 
Dan,  blanket  upon  shoulders,  Indian  fashion,  squatting 
in  the  flicker  of  the  fire  and  scraping  a  plate!  Eating 
again ! 

And  he  was  aroused,  a  second  time,  in  earnest,  by  the 
stir  of  Chet  and  the  voice  of  Grizzly  Dan  declaiming, 
insistently : 

"  Leve,  leve,  leve !    Get  up !    All  hands  get  up !  " 

All  hands,  and  feet  too,  "  got  up  " — Chet  on  the 
one  side  of  the  bed,  Phil  on  the  other.  Bonita  already 
was  up.  The  fire  was  blazing ;  the  kettle  was  simmer- 
ing and  a  coffee-pot  was  bubbling.  With  oddly  silent 
movement  Grizzly  Dan,  the  same  quaint,  striking 
figure,  in  his  moccasins  was  returning  from  the  creek. 

"  Hos  guard  out !  "  he  called.  "  You  can  be  fetchin' 
in  the  critters  whilst  I  get  breakfast.  That's  fust  duty : 
round  up  the  stock  an'  scout  for  hostile  sign.  I  been 
lookin'  for  beaver  cuttin's  in  the  creek"  (and  he 
chuckled)  "but  thar  ain't  none." 

"  Better  take  our  ropes,"  said  Chet.  "  May  have  to 
rope  Medicine  Eye.  He  can  run  in  hobbles  faster  than 
we  can  in  bare  feet,  if  he  has  the  notion.  He's  mean, 
that  way." 

But  the  ropes  were  not  necessary.  The  picketed 
animals  were  of  course  easily  caught;  Pepper,  seeing 
Phil  approach,  took  only  a  few  cramped,  irresolute 


24  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

steps — his  snared  fore-feet  moving  together  in  a  hop, 
and  Medicine  Eye,  after  one  brief  spurt,  halted  at  the 
swing  of  Chefs  rope.  The  five  were  watered  at  the 
creek,  and  then  were  led  close  in  and  tethered  short. 

"  S'pose  you  didn't  know  jest  what  I  war  sayin', 
when  I  got  you  up  this  mornin'  out  o'  bed,  did  ye?  " 
asked  Grizzly  Dan,  as  they  sat  at  breakfast. 

"  We  understood  part  of  it,  all  right — the  last  part," 
said  Phil.  "  Guess  we  overslept." 

"  Fust  part  war  '  Leve,  leve,  leve  ' ;  that  thar's  the 
old  trapper  call,  meanin'  '  Rise/  I  reckon  it  must  be 
French,  though  some  say  it's  Spanish.  Thar's  a 
'  French  word  '  levez,'  an'  thar's  a  Spanish  word 
*  laver,'  one  meanin'  get  up,  t'other  meanin'  '  wash.' 
The  French  word's  best  for  trapper  ways;  we  could 
always  get  up,  but  we  didn't  always  wash,"  and  Grizzly 
Dan  chuckled  again. 

The  breakfast  was  the  same  as  the  supper  had  been, 
except  that  coffee  was  added.  And  the  stew  tasted  as 
good  this  morning  as  it  had  tasted  last  night ;  certainly 
prairie-dog  was  not  to  be  despised. 

"  Empty  the  pot,"  bade  old  Dan.  "  We  may  have 
noon  lunch  an'  we  may  not.  Didn't  hear  any  o'  ye 
eatin'  in  the  night,  did  I  ?  " 

"  Not  I,"  said  Phil. 

"  I  either,"  said  Chet.     "I  slept." 

"  Wall,  I  got  reel  hungry  'long  'bout  midnight," 
confessed  old  Dan,  earnestly — as  if  the  fact  was  quite 
ordinary,  even  after  the  prodigious  supper  which  he 
had  stowed  away.  "  So  I  riz  an'  'tended  to  my  meat- 
bag  agin.  Eat  when  you're  eatin'  is  my  theory.  I've 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  25 

seen  three  Injuns  eat  a  whole  deer  at  one  sittin'.  Yes, 
eat  him  all  but  his  hide  an'  horns.  Wall,"  he  added, 
lighting  his  pipe  and  standing,  "  hyar's  some  for  the 
dog.  Now  ketch  up,  ketch  up!  Souse  the  dishes  an' 
scrape  the  kettle,  an'  we'll  break  camp.  I'll  be  'tendin' 
to  puttin'  on  the  pack-saddles." 

The  work  of  cleaning  the  cooking  and  table  utensils 
was  brief ;  and  it  was  finished  almost  by  the  time  that 
Bonita  had  gobbled  the  last  vestige  of  the  breakfast 
thrown  to  her. 

"  All  right-o!  Ketch  up,  ketch  up!  "  called  Grizzly 
Dan,  observing,  from  his  operations  among  the  horses. 
"  Know  what  that  means  ?  That  thar's  'nother  trapper 
order ;  traders  used  it,  too.  Means  to  break  camp,  put 
on  yore  saddles  or  hitch  yore  critters  to  the  wagons, 
an'  be  ready  to  move.  Ketch  up,  ketch  up !  " 

To  saddle  the  riding  horses  was  easy  work  for  the 
boys — although  old  Dan  had  his  pinto  ready  first,  to 
Chefs  chagrin.  Nobody  likes  to  be  beaten  in  saddling 
or  unsaddling.  But 

"  I  don't  know  whether  we  can  throw  on  a  pack  so 
it'll  stay,  or  not,"  he  admitted  candidly.  "  We  never 
learned;  did  we,  Phil?" 

"  I  never  did,"  Phil  answered. 

"  Didn't  ye  ?  "  remarked  old  Dan,  in  quiet  surprise. 
"  Wall,  it's  every  man  to  his  own  packs,  but  I  reckon  I 
can  show  ye.  You  hold  the  packs  an'  I'll  do  the  tyin' 
till  you've  1'arned  how.  Fust  we'll  hang  these  hyar 
panyards,  or  what  air  called  alforjas— 

"  We  know  enough  for  that,"  claimed  Chet. 

" an'  then  we'll  put  on  the  top  packs.    Got  yore 


26  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

pack  folded?  That's  right.  Loose  stuff  inside  the 
blankets,  an'  the  tarp  wropped  around.  Pack's  got  to 
be  soft  enough  so  the  rope'll  bite  in  an'  hold  it  from 
slippin'.  Now  you  stiddy  yore  pack  on  yore  hos,  an' 
watch  me,  an'  you'll  1'arn  how  to  do." 

The  pair  of  panniers,  or  alforfas — which  were  a 
pair  of  stiff,  leather-covered,  deep  and  narrow  boxes, 
slung  one  on  each  side  of  the  pack-saddle — had  been 
adjusted  and  filled  with  odds  and  ends;  and  to  bulge 
over  them  had  been  lifted  upon  the  saddle  the  top  pack 
enveloped  in  the  bedding  and  forming  a  large  pad. 
Across  the  top  pack  and  under  the  grunting  Cotton- 
tail, back  and  forth,  looping  the  pack  at  ends  and 
middle,  binding  it  closely,  Grizzly  Dan  passed  the  lash 
rope ;  with  a  final  haul  he  tucked  the  loose  end  in  a  bow. 
He  gave  the  pack  and  panniers  a  final  shake,  testing. 

"  Thar !  "  he  quoth.    "  That  thar's  snug." 

"  What  did  you  throw  ?  A  diamond  hitch  ?  "  queried 
Chet. 

"  One  of  'em,  I  reckon.  The  diamond  war  used  by 
us  trappers  in  the  West  long  'fore  it  war  used  by  these 
hyar  army  packers.  You'll  1'arn  it,  soon.  'Tain't 
hard.  When  you  come  to  unpack,  you  jest  pull  that 
loose  end  an'  the  knots  untie;  an'  to  take  up  slack  an' 
tighten  the  pack  you  run  the  knots  an'  haul  on  the 
same  end.  Now  for  my  hos." 

Old  Dan's  packs  were  somewhat  different  from  the 
packs  belonging  to  the  boys.  He  had  two  sacks,  in- 
stead of  the  panniers.  They  were  short  and  wide 
sacks  of  blackened,  smooth,  thick  leather,  to  which 
clung  a  few  tufts  of  matted  brown  hair;  Phil  remem- 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  27 

bered  to  have  seen,  in  an  attic,  hair  trunks  that  looked 
somewhat  like  these  sacks.  He  would  have  liked  to  ask 
what  these  sacks  were  made  of,  but  he  knew  that  in 
the  open  West  an  unnecessary  question  marked  the 
tenderfoot;  and  he  decided  to  waif  If  Chet  also  was 
curious,  he  likewise  refrained  from  being  over- 
inquisitive.  But  the  old  trapper  seemed  to  read  their 
minds. 

"  Ever  see  sacks  like  these  hyar?  "  he  invited. 

"  Hide,  aren't  they  ?  "  ventured  Phil.    "  Cow  hide  ?  " 

Grizzly  Dan  chuckled,  as  he  threw  the  lash  rope. 

"  Bull  hide,"  proffered  Chet. 

"  That's  nearer,"  said  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Bull,  an'  old 
bull,  and  buff'ler  bull.  These  hyar  sacks  have  lasted 
me  thirty  year,  an'  I  had  to  get  'em  of  a  Ute  Injun, 
at  that.  Those  panyards  o'  yourn  are  all  right,  but 
give  me  my  trap  sack  an*  my  sack  o'  possibles,  made 
out  o'  buff'ler  bull.  I'd  feel  lost  without  'em.  At  a 
pinch,  I  can  eat  'em,  you  know."  And  he  chuckled 
again. 

"  These  must  be  the  traps,  over  on  my  side," 
hazarded  Phil,  punching  the  thick  and  bulky  cushion. 
"Bear  traps?" 

"  Wall,  boy,  they  might  be  b'ar  traps,  an'  they  might 
be  wolf  traps,  an'  they  might  be  beaver  traps." 

"  It's  against  the  law  to  trap  beaver,"  stated  Chet, 
in  his  blunt  way.  He  never  minced  words,  did  Chet; 
he  said  just  what  he  thought. 

"  Yes,  it's  agin  the  law,"  agreed  old  Dan.  "  It's 
agin  the  law  o'  man,  an'  sometimes  I  think  it's  agin  the 
law  o'  God.  But  I've  packed  traps  for  sixty  year,  an* 


28  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

unless  I  hear  'em  jinglin'  I'm  lonesome.  I  usu'lly  get 
enough  pelts,  one  kind  or  'nothcr,  to  buy  my  supplies, 
an'  that's  all  I  want.  T'other,"  he  added,  brightening, 
"  on  yore  side,  is  the  sack  o'  possibles.  That's  what 
we  old-timers  call  our  extra  stuff — moccasins,  gloves, 
powder,  lead,  buckskin,  etc. :  possibles.  'Cause,  I 
reckon,  it's  mighty  possible  that  we'll  need  'em.  Whoa, 
now,  durn  ye,"  he  addressed  the  mule.  "  Don't  get 
fractious,  Betty.  You'll  have  plenty  chance  to  move 
around,  'fore  the  day's  done." 

Old  Dan  led,  on  his  spotted  pony.  Chet  followed, 
on  Medicine  Eye.  Next  came  the  dun  mule,  laden 
with  the  trap  sack  and  the  sack  of  possibles,  and  the 
top  pack  of  bedding,  with  the  iron  kettle  slung  at  one 
side.  Cotton-tail,  with  the  panniers  and  the  top  pack, 
obediently  ambled  behind.  And  closing  the  rear  rode 
Phil,  on  Pepper.  He  was  satisfied  with  the  post,  for 
the  little  cavalcade  ahead  of  him,  with  the  old  trapper, 
in  moccasins  and  buckskin,  balancing  his  long  rifle  and 
sitting  easily  his  pinto,  was  most  picturesque. 

Sometimes  at  Pepper's  heels,  sometimes  trotting  into 
the  brush  at  either  side,  with  black  silky  coat,  white 
collar  and  chest,  bushy  tail  and  sharp  inquisitive  nose, 
trotted  Bonita,  who  must  not  be  overlooked. 

Now  did  it  seem  that  they  fairly  were  launched  for 
the  wilds.  Old  Dan  led  unhesitatingly,  up  the  draw, 
his  pony  treading,  with  quick  single-foot  gait  like  a 
fox-trot,  the  narrow  bridle-path  before.  Without 
speaking  they  rode,  always  on  the  soft  trail,  through 
the  trembling  aspens  and  the  fragrant  pines,  with 
flowers,  pink,  white,  blue,  and  red,  brushing  the  fet- 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  29 

locks  of  horse  and  mule.  Betty  and  Cotton-tail 
grabbed  at  them,  in  passing,  and  chewed  them  down 
along  with  mouthfuls  of  grass  and  weeds. 

The  trail  imitated  the  windings  of  the  stream  which 
rippled  on  the  right.  But  the  stream  sank,  and 
presently  it  was  roaring  and  tumbling  through  a  canon, 
hundreds  of  feet  below  them,  while  they  entered  upon 
a  narrow  wagon-road  which  had  come  in  by  a  high 
bridge  and  skirted  the  wall  halfway  up  between  stream- 
bed  and  canon  rim. 

"  Is  this  Horsethief  Trail?  "  called  Phil. 

"  Naw,"  replied  Chet,  over  his  shoulder.  "  I  should 
say  not ! " 

The  way  seemed  to  Phil  perilous  enough — partic- 
ularly if  they  should  meet  another  pack-train  or  a 
wagon.  Bonita  now  also  appeared  to  consider  the 
situation  grave,  for  occasionally  peering  over  into 
the  chasm,  she  lagged  soberly  in  the  wake  of 
Pepper. 

The  opposite  side  of  the  canon  sloped  sharply,  and 
was  white  with  slim  dead  pines,  like  untrimmed  tele- 
phone poles.  A  dull  "  Boom !  "  was  heard. 

"  Blasting,"  called  back  Chet.  "  They're  putting  in 
a  big  reservoir." 

The  canon  opened,  as  the  trail  lowered,  and  they 
rode  out  among  a  gang  of  foreign  workmen,  shoveling 
and  drilling  around  a  hole  that  looked  like  the  mouth 
of  a  large  sewer  pipe. 

'  That's  a  conduit,"  explained  the  ready  Chet. 
'  They're  making  a  dam  here,  and  the  water'll  back 
up  to  flow  under  the  hill,  through  the  pipe,  and  come 


30  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

out  in  the  valley,  for  irrigating  and  power.  It's  going 
to  open  a  lot  of  new  country  to  ranching/' 

The  Greeks  and  Austrians  paused,  and  watched  the 
little  cavalcade  pass  just  above  them.  Grizzly  Dan 
seemed  to  strike  them  as  a  joke.  One  of  them 
shouldered  his  pick,  as  if  it  were  a  gun,  and  pointing 
it,  laughed :  "  Bang !  "  Then  they  all  laughed  and 
jabbered,  and  pretended  to  shoot,  with  picks  and  crow- 
bars as  their  weapons.  That  this  old  man  and  these 
two  boys  should  be  crossing  country  with  a  pack-train 
outfit  was  to  these  jovial  workers  a  great  source  of 
amusement.  One  of  them  even  imitated  a  bear — 
getting  on  all  fours,  and  falling  over  dead  when  a 
comrade  aimed  at  him  with  a  pick! 

Grizzly  Dan  rode  on  without  a  single  indication  that 
he  noticed,  but  Phil  gave  back  laugh  for  laugh.  The 
river  turned  sharply  to  the  right,  and  the  trail  obliqued 
to  the  left,  climbing  a  hill.  At  the  top  Grizzly  Dan 
halted,  as  if  to  let  the  animals  breathe;  he  could  gaze 
down  on  the  work  gang,  five  hundred  feet  below.  And 
gaze  down  he  did,  indignant. 

"  Yes,"  he  said,  as  Phil  came  on,  to  join  him  and 
Chet;  "  that's  the  way,  air  it?  Hyar  I've  trapped  an' 
fout  over  this  country  'fore  some  o'  those  fellows  war 
born,  and  now  they're  in  hyar  to  laugh  at  me  whilst 
they  turn  the  country  into  farms.  I've  raised  ha'r  for 
less,  I  tell  ye !  No  man  is  so  old  he  likes  to  be  laughed 
at."  And  he  angrily  clapped  the  lock-plate  of  his  rifle, 
shaking  the  priming  under  the  flint.  "  Mebbe  they 
made  fun  o'  Sally,  too.  But  she  could  show  'em." 

"  They  were  only  fooling,"  placated  Chet,  he  and 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  31 

Phil  alarmed.     "They  didn't  know  what  they  were 
saying.     They  laugh  at  everybody." 

"  Sure  they  do/'  supported  Phil. 

"They  do,  do  they?"  muttered  old  Dan.  "Let's 
give  'em  another  chance  then,  Sally;  shall  we?  "  His 
keen,  twinkling  eyes,  set  amidst  the  white  hair  of  thick 
whiskers  and  bushy  brows,  were  roving  over  the  slope 
across,  beyond  the  gang.  It  was  a  slope  covered 
with  logs  and  short  brush  and  rock  ledges.  "  See 
that  'ere  striped  squirrel,  on  that  'ere  rock?  "  he  asked. 
"Yonder,  settin'  agin  the  patch  o'  rock  wall?"  He 
pointed. 

"  I  see  him,"  said  Chet.  And  Phil,  last,  could  just 
make  out  a  vague  bunch,  like  a  rat  on  its  hind  quarters 
outlined  upon  the  yellowish  background  of  the  ledge. 

Grizzly  Dan  lightly  lifted  his  long  rifle,  cocked  it, 
and  leveled  the  heavy  barrel.  The  workmen  below  had 
been  watching,  curiously,  and  as  the  muzzle  out- 
stretched they  eagerly  turned  their  heads  to  note  the 
mark.  Their  voices  floated  up. 

"  That's  a  hundred  and  fifty  yards,"  spoke  Chet— 
and  then,  as  it  steadied,  the  muzzle  also  spoke  with 
sharp,  flat  "  Crack !  "  A  little  puff  of  rock-dust,  right 
where  the  squirrel  had  sat,  answered,  and  tumbling, 
sprawling,  the  body  of  the  squirrel  itself  ricochetted 
clown  the  steep  slope,  and  struck  the  very  edge  of  the 
stream,  across  from  the  workmen.  Their  excited 
jabber  welled  excitedly,  and  one  of  them  recklessly 
waded,  knee  deep,  and  brought  the  squirrel  to  his 
mates.  They  crowded  to  examne  it. 

"  That's  right.     Look  at  it.     You'll  find  it  shot  in 


32  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

the  head,  I  bet  ye,"  muttered  Old  Dan,  grimly,  as  he 
swiftly  reloaded.  "  Laugh  some  more." 

But  the  Greeks  and  Austrians,  gazing  up,  and  talk- 
ing, were  not  disposed  to  laugh.  The  token  had  been 
sufficient.  Such  a  shot  appeared  almost  miraculous. 

"  That's  shore  some  shooting,"  appraised  Chet, 
soberly. 

"  It  shore  is,"  agreed  Phil. 

And  it  "  shore  "  was,  for  a  man  of  eighty-odd  years, 
and  a  flintlock  muzzle-loader  with  open  sights. 

"  Sally  usu'lly  throws  plumb  center/'  observed 
Grizzly  Dan.  "  She's  had  to,  in  her  time,  to  save  my 
ha'r.  But  hark  'ee!  Hear  them  hounds?  Runnin' 
b'ar,  ain't  they?" 

The  spot  where  the  halt  had  been  made  was  on  the 
top  of  a  moderate  ridge,  whither  the  trail  had  climbed 
after  it  and  the  stream  diverged.  Now,  down  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  ridge  from  the  river  side,  floated 
faintly,  but  growing  louder  as  if  the  distance  was  being 
lessened,  the  barks  and  yelps  of  dogs.  Bonita  pricked 
her  ears.  All  listened,  except  Betty  the  mule  and 
Cotton-tail,  her  partner  in  service,  who  busily  foraged. 

"  Heading  this  way,  aren't  they?  "  queried  Phil. 

"  Come  on,"  exclaimed  Chet,  as  he  rode  forward, 
across  the  ridge,  for  a  better  view  of  the  country 
beyond.  "  Come  on !  Take  down  your  gun,  Phil ! 
Maybe  we'll  get  a  shot." 

He  was  pulling  his  own  rifle  from  the  scabbard,  and 
Phil  as  he  too  spurred  forward  extracted  his  trusty 
carbine.  Grizzly  Dan  followed  leisurely,  not  at  all  ex- 
cited. 


OFF    FOR    LOST    PARK  33 

The  clamor  of  dog  voices  increased.  From  the 
ridge,  which  fell  away  in  a  long  rocky  slope,  the  party 
looked  out  upon  a  wide  valley,  the  end  and  the  farther 
side  of  which  were  cloaked  with  brush  and  a  few 
cedars. 

"  They're  right  across!  "  announced  Chet.  "  There 
they  are!  Hear  'em?" 

"Yes,"  remarked  old  Dan,  quietly.  "And  thar's 
yore  b'ar.  See  him?  " 

He  pointed,  with  the  barrel  of  his  rifle.  Sure 
enough,  a  blackish  object  had  emerged  from  a  fringe 
of  brush,  diagonally  across,  and  was  galloping  on, 
partially  in  the  open,  as  if  making  for  the  slope  of  the 
ridge. 

"  I  see  him !  I  see  him !  "  gasped  Chet,  tumbling  off 
his  horse  as  if  for  better  aim.  "  Wait !  Let  him 
come  near.  Maybe  we'll  get  him.  He's  too  far  now. 
Hang  on  to  the  hawsses,  though.  He's  a  little  one, 
isn't  he?" 

"  Little  black  b'ar,"  confirmed  old  Dan,  quietly, 
sitting  his  pony.  "  Young  one,  I  reckon."  His 
wonderful  eyes  pierced  to  every  detail. 

"  Wait,"  again  warned  Chet,  as  if  fearful  that  Phil, 
now  likewise  dismounted  and  ready,  would  fire  too 
soon.  "  Let  Dan  tell  us  when." 

"  Wall,"  drawled  Grizzly  Dan,  "  you  do  yore  own 
shootin'.  I'm  liable  to  miss  the  b'ar  and  hit  a  dawg  or 
two.  Chasin'  a  b'ar,  like  this,  with  dawgs,  till  he  can't 
run  no  further ;  and  then  havin'  the  dawgs  hold  him  in 
a  tree  till  men  come  on  up  and  shoot  him  out !  "  he 
muttered.  "  Look  at  the  pore  beast,  will  you  ?  Nothin' 


34  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

but  a  young  one,  anyhow,  and  ain't  been  out  long 
enough  to  get  reel  strong.  Guess  the  dogs  must  have 
routed  him  in  the  brush,  and  he  hain't  had  sense  to  tree 
—which  war  lucky  for  him.  Thar  come  the  hounds, 
too,  on  his  trail." 

A  bevy  of  specks  had  appeared,  yonder  where  the 
bear  had  emerged.  The  bear  himself,  skirting  the  base 
of  the  ridge,  was  making  hard  work.  Even  at  the 
distance  could  it  be  perceived  that  he  was  winded; 
and  Phil  fancied  how  his  sides  were  heaving  and  his 
tongue  hanging. 

But  the  bloodthirsty  instincts  of  Chet  the  practical 
were  aroused.  The  bear  appealed  to  him  not  so  much 
as  a  panting,  frightened  fugitive  as  a  species  of  game. 
His  eyes  riveted  upon  it,  as  if  hypnotized  he  slowly 
raised  his  rifle  and  took  careful  aim.  Phil  held  his 
breath,  almost  hoping  that  Chet  missed.  The  gun 
cracked  spitefully.  The  ball  threw  up  a  spurt  of  dirt 
beyond  the  bear. 

"  Aw,  I  shot  too  high !  "  muttered  Chet,  jerking  the 
lever  angrily.  "  Shoot,  Phil !  Aren't  you  going  to 
shoot?" 

The  rifle  cracked  again.  The  running  bear  halted 
abruptly,  and  sat  up  on  his  haunches,  gazing  about  as  if 
inquiring  what  that  new  attack  might  be.  Then  as 
abruptly  he  dropped  to  all  fours,  scampered  clumsily  a 
few  steps,  and — vanished! 

"  Aw,  gee !  "  complained  Chet,  regretfully,  lowering 
his  rifle.  "  Where  is  he  ?  I'd  have  got  him,  next  time. 
Why  didn't  you  other  fellows  shoot?  What's  the 
matter  with  you  ?  " 


OFF   FOR   LOST    PARK  35 

"  I  didn't  want  to  shoot  him,"  confessed  Phil,  who 
lowered  his  own  carbine,  which  he  had  mechanically 
leveled.  "  What's  the  use  ?  It  wasn't  our  hunt.  He 
was  having  a  hard  time  with  those  other  hunters." 

"  He's  holed,  I  bet  ye,"  said  old  Dan,  statuesque,  and 
searching  with  his  puckered  keen  eyes.  "  He's  holed. 
Now  I  reckon  the  varmints'll  try  to  smoke  him  out. 
Thar's  no  get-away  for  a  b'ar  when  dogs  air  called  in 
to  help  humans.  That's  a  double  dose.  Wall " 

"  I  know !  "  exclaimed  Chet.  "  He  went  into  the 
conduit.  That's  where  the  other  end  is — that's  where 
it  empties !  It  runs  under  this  ridge.  Come  on !  "  he 
bade,  as  excited  as  ever.  "  Maybe  he'll  go  right 
through.  Come  on  and  see  the  fun !  "  And  away  he 
went,  tugging  at  Medicine  Eye,  to  recross  the  ridge,  for 
a  view  of  the  gulch  which  they  had  just  left. 

Phil  followed;  and  with  a  chuckle  Grizzly  Dan 
leisurely  rode  after. 

The  grading  and  blasting  gang  were  working  away, 
picking  and  shoveling  and  jabbering,  before  the 
entrance  of  the  conduit.  They  did  not  now  notice  the 
return,  above  them,  of  the  three  spectators  (four,  in- 
cluding Bonita),  who  gazed  down  expectantly.  On  a 
sudden  one  of  the  laborers,  stooping  before  the  orifice, 
paused,  with  shovel  poised,  and  half  straightened, 
peering  as  if  he  might  have  heard  an  odd  sound.  Drop- 
ping his  shovel  he  sprang  back.  His  shrill  voice  echoed 
up  to  the  watchers;  his  comrades,  momentarily  ceas- 
ing their  methodical  movements,  turned  their  heads, 
curious  over  his  action.  Something  was  about  to  hap- 
pen! And  it  did  happen!  By  one  simultaneous  jump 


36  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

the  men  before  the  hole  cleared  a  path,  right  and  left — 
stumbling,  sprawling,  diving  for  safety,  leaving  their 
tools ;  and  into  the  cloud  of  dust  bolted,  as  if  fairly  shot 
from  a  huge  popgun,  a  round,  furry  object. 

A  chorus  of  frightened  cries,  high-pitched  and 
frantic,  rose  to  the  gazers  upon  the  ridge.  Head  over 
heels  tumbled  one  swarthy  workman;  another  caught 
his  heel  and  slammed  flat  upon  his  back ;  and  cleaving  a 
lane  through  their  midst  sped  the  bear,  as  frightened 
as  they,  but  with  his  ears  back  and  his  fur  bristled  play- 
ing the  offensive.  He  reached  the  river,  and  dashed 
through.  Dripping  and  refreshed  he  scrambled  up  the 
opposite  bank,  through  the  brush  and  rocks,  for  safety 
somewhere  else.  The  loose  earth  and  stones  clattered 
behind  him. 

No  harm  had  been  done,  and  the  spectacle  was 
entirely  funny.  Phil  and  Chet  were  doubled  over, 
shrieking  with  laughter ;  on  his  pinto  Grizzly  Dan  was 
slapping  his  buckskin  thigh  and  chuckling  with  open 
mouth.  But 

"  Shoot !  Shoot !  "  he  yelled  down,  in  strong,  pene- 
trating voice.  "  Shoot  him  with  yore  shovels  an'  yt>re 
picks !  Ya-a-a-a !  Thar's  yore  game !  We  brought  it 
to  ye!"  And  he  muttered,  as  he  chuckled:  "Make 
faces  at  us,  will  ye !  Twould  a'  sarved  ye  right  if  he'd 
a'  clawed  some  o'  ye ! " 

"  Oh,  shoot !  You  can  hit  him,  Dan.  I  can't — I 
can't  quit  laughing,"  panted  Chet.  "Can  you,  Phil? 
Oh — haw-haw,  tee-hee!  Oh,  jiminy!" 

"  Oh,  h,i\v-lmv !  "  echoed  Phil,  in  the  same  fix. 

"  The  b'ar  can  go;  but  if  a  dawg  comes  out  o'  that 


OFF    FOR    LOST    PARK  37 

tliar  hole,  he's  gone  beaver,  says  old  Sal/'  announced 
Grizzly  Dan.  "  Let's  see  about  these  hyar  dawgs,  any- 
how." He  rode  back  across  the  ridge,  to  inspect  the 
other  side  again,  and  the  vicinity  of  the  conduit  there. 
Mounting  hastily,  the  boys  did  the  same. 

The  dogs  had  arrived,  and  now  spurring  across  the 
valley  came  the  hunters  also.  The  dogs  had  clustered 
about  the  exit  of  the  conduit,  and  were  nosing  it,  or 
were  lying  outstretched  and  exhausted,  while  they 
yelped  for  advice. 

"  Reckoned  they  wouldn't  go  in  thar,  an'  nobody 
can  force  'em  in,  either,"  declared  old  Dan.  "  An'  it 
air  goin'  to  take  some  work  to  get  'em  'round  the  hill 
an'  to  t'other  side,  an'  then  thar's  the  river,  to  break 
the  trail.  I  bet  on  the  b'ar." 

The  riders  arrived.  They  peered  into  the  conduit; 
as  Grizzly  Dan  had  predicted,  the  dogs  refused  to  enter 
it  far;  and  also  as  he  had  predicted,  they  refused  to 
leave  it,  the  trail  was  so  warm.  The  men  spied  the 
three  riders  above  them,  and  shouted  questions ;  but 
the  words  were  indistinguishable,  and  as  Dan  did  not 
reply,  the  two  boys  did  not,  either. 

A  couple  of  the  men  (there  were  four)  rode  around 
the  point  of  the  ridge,  as  if  to  reconnoiter;  they  came 
back  and  with  a  dog  apiece  upon  the  saddle  started  off 
with  them,  by  a  trail  which  lower  down  took  them  to 
the  opposite  side.  Even  here,  assisted  by  the  loud  talk- 
ing and  the  much  pointing  of  the  laborers,  they  had 
a  difficult  time.  The  dogs,  upon  the  scent  again,  were 
bound  to  bay  at  the  mouth  of  the  conduit,  evidently 
deeming  the  bear  holed;  carrying  the  two  dogs, 


38  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

through  the  stream  splashed  the  men,  to  pick  up  the 
trail  at  the  opposite  bank.  However,  the  water  had 
killed  the  scent,  evidently;  for  the  dogs  were  at  fault 
and  presently  swam  back,  despite  the  efforts  of  their 
masters,  to  bay  at  the  hole  again. 

Old  Dan  chuckled.    "  Smart  b'ar/'  he  remarked. 

"  Will  he  get  away,  do  you  think?  "  queried  Phil. 

"  He's  saved  his  scalp,  this  time.  He  war  pretty 
nigh  gone  beaver,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  that  tube.  But 
he  air  good  for  another  day,  now." 

"  Then  I'm  glad  I  didn't  hit  him,"  spoke  Chet,  im- 
pulsively. 

So  was  Phil. 

"  Ketch  up,"  prompted  Grizzly  Dan.  "  It's  a  long 
trail,  yet.  Never  did  see  the  fun  in  chasing  b'ar  with 
dogs,  myself,"  he  continued,  as  they  rode  for  the  pack 
animals,  which  had  strayed,  grazing.  "  This  hyar  idee 
o'  routin'  out  a  b'ar  with  dawgs,  an'  havin'  them  run 
him  up  a  tree,  ain't  to  my  notion  o'  man  sport.  What 
chance  had  a  b'ar,  with  a  dozen  hounds  follerin'  every 
footprint  ?  It's  jest  a  question  o'  tuckerin'  him ;  an'  to 
stand  under  an'  shoot  him  while  he  waits  is  'bout  as 
brave  as  shootin'  a  squirrel.  Anybody  can  do  that — 
an'  you  don't  have  to  shoot  straight,  either.  Drop  him 
into  the  dawgs  an'  they'll  help  finish  him.  Wagh! 
'Cordin'  to  my  notion  the  average  b'ar  don't  do  any 
harm,  anyhow.  Some  o'  these  hyar  white  b'ar,  what 
you  call  grizzly  an'  silver-tip,  need  a  pill  in  the  head, 
occasional,  to  make  'em  stand  'round ;  but  'tween  man 
an'  b'ar  it  oughter  to  be  a  stand-up  fight,  when  it  air 
fight.  When  I  see  a  b'ar  chased  by  dawgs,  I  always 


OFF    FOR   LOST    PARK  39 

want  to  help  the  b'ar  an'  fight  the  dawgs.  Yet  no 
man  livin'  has  killed  more  b'ar  than  I,  I  reckon ;  I  an' 
old  Sal,  hyar.  But  ketch  up,  ketch  up.  It's  a  long 
trail.  Wagh!" 

They  traversed  the  ridge,  as  it  swung  around  to  the 
head  of  the  valley  down  which  the  bear  had  been 
chased ;  and  they  left  behind  them  the  clamor  of  dogs 
and  the  fainter  voices  of  men. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THROUGH   MEDICINE  CANON 

THE  top  of  the  ridge  was  flat  and  gravelly,  with  a 
sprinkling  of  sage.  It  was  traversed  by  several  trails, 
and  Grizzly  Dan,  leading,  rode  confidently  on.  The 
ridge  swung  in  a  great  simicircle — the  river  gorge  on 
the  left,  the  valley  on  the  right.  In  about  a  mile  the 
ridge  ended,  falling  away  into  an  open  flat  on  the  one 
hand  and  a  stretch  of  timber  on  the  other.  From  the 
flat  up-wafted  a  melodious  murmur  of  animal  voices 
high  and  low,  and  mingled  with  the  murmur  the  tinkle 
of  bells.  To  Phil  the  sounds  were  familiar;  they  re- 
called with  a  rush  his  free  herder  life  of  the  year  be- 
fore, and  suddenly  he  felt  a  little  wave  of  yearning. 
After  all,  that  had  been  a  fine  experience,  with  Gus, 
and  Kitty  and  the  foolish  ewes,  and 

"  Sheep !  "  called  back  diet.    "  See  'em?  " 

Of  course  he  saw  them,  down  below,  scattered  like 
drab  moles  burrowing  amidst  the  sage.  The  feeble 
blatting  of  the  lambs  could  be  distinguished ;  the  sheep 
showed  whitish ;  evidently  they  had  been  sheared,  and 
this  was  a  stopping  place  en  route  to  the  lambing  range. 
Yonder  was  the  herder's  tent. 

Bonita's  ears  were  erect  and  her  head  up,  as  if  she 
also  (trained  sheep-dog  that  she  was)  recognized 
familiar  sounds.  At  this  moment,  with  furious  bark 

40 


THROUGH     MEDICINE    CANON  41 

and  bristling  back  another  sheep-dog — a  black  dog, 
almost  as  handsome  as  she — sprang  from  a  couch  in 
the  sage  and  growling  and  wrathful  rushed  for  her, 
bounding  headlong,  only  to  stop  as  Bonita  responded 
bravely. 

This  black  dog  struck  Phil  as  being  a  dog  that  re- 
minded him  of  another  dog — or  was  it  the  same  dog? 
It  was !  It  must  be ! 

"  There's  Kitty!  "  he  shouted  to  Chet.  "  Isn't  she? 
Sure  she  is!  Here,  Kitty!  Here,  Kit!  " 

Surprised,  the  black  dog  paused  an  instant,  to  turn 
her  head;  then  she  and  Bonita  continued  to  walk 
around  one  another  and  threaten.  Kitty  it  certainly 
was — Gus  the  herder's  dog,  of  last  summer;  once 
Bonita's  friend  and  fellow-worker,  but  by  one  fight 
changed,  evidently,  to  deadly  enemy.  And  now  from 
the  brush  arose  an  angular,  slouchy  figure  of  a  man — 
Gus  himself!  He  yelled  at  Kitty,  and  she  regretfully 
obeyed.  Chet  and  Phil  waved  at  him,  and  he  came 
forward,  from  where,  on  the  edge  of  the  ridge,  he  had 
been  lying  watching  his  sheep. 

"  Hello,  Gus."  And  Chet  shook  hands  with  him. 
Grizzly  Dan  nodded.  Riding  up,  Phil  also  shook 
hands.  "Still  at  it?" 

"  Herding  sheep,"  replied  Gus,  laconically.  "  Dis 
iss  our  lambing  range." 

By  his  flat  features,  his  scant,  faded  yellow  mustache, 
his  high  cheek-bones,  his  blue  eyes,  and  his  broken 
speech,  he  was  a  Scandinavian.  Last  year  he  had  been 
on  the  drive  to  the  lambing  range  with  the  sheep  of 
Mr.  Simms,  Chet's  father.  In  his  tent  and  company 


42  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Chet  and  Phil  had  learned  what  they  knew  of  the 
sheep-range  business. 

"  Thought  you  were  in  Wyoming." 

"  I  wass.  I  wass  dere  till  winter.  But  now  anodder 
fellow  and  I  bring  our  sheep  in  here." 

"  Herding  for  yourself,  are  you?  " 

"  Yes,  I  and  anodder  fellow.  Have  you  quit  the 
sheep  business?  " 

"  No,  dad's  running  a  bunch  of  Circle  K,  again ;  but 
he'd  like  to  sell  out,"  said  Chet.  "  Phil  and  I  are  going 
hunting." 

"That  iss  the  Luis  dog,  issn't  she?"  queried  Gus. 
"  I  t'ought  so.  Kitty  remembers  her.  If  she  don't 
keep  away  some  day  Kitty  will  kill  her.  She  iss  no 
good,  anyhow." 

Phil  flamed  up,  to  retort — for  Bonita  was  the  best 
dog  in  the  world ;  best  sheep-dog,  best  dog  every  way. 
But  he  checked  himself.  Let  Gus  cherish  the  old 
grudge,  from  last  year  when  the  fight  between  Bonita 
and  Kitty  led  straight  to  the  fight  between  the  mas- 
ters also.  Gus  always  had  been  jealous  of  Lois's 
dog. 

"  Yes,  she's  my  dog  now,"  he  only  warned.  "  They 
surely  remember  each  other,  though." 

"  Ketch  up,"  spoke  old  Dan.  "  Better  be  movin'." 
He  started  on. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  you  t'ink  ?  "  asked  Gus,  as 
the  boys  lifted  the  noses  of  their  horses,  to  follow  their 
guide. 

"  Lost  Park,  maybe." 

"  Perhaps  we  move  in  dere,  too,  for  the  summer," 


THROUGH    MEDICINE    CANON          43 

vouchsafed  Gus.  "  I  do  not  know.  We  got  permit  to 
graze  dere,  but  it  iss  pretty  brushy." 

"  Some  bear,  too,"  said  Phil. 

"  We  are  not  afraid  of  bear,"  replied  Gus. 

"  Well,  adios,"  called  Chet. 

"  Adios,"  bade  Phil. 

"  So  long,"  responded  Gus.  And  he  called,  after : 
"  That  iss  the  trail  to  Lost  Park,  odder  side,  over  dere," 
and  he  motioned  to  the  left.  But  Grizzly  Dan,  in  the 
advance,  veered  down  upon  the  right  of  the  ridge,  for 
the  timber,  and  of  course  the  little  procession  followed. 

On  they  jogged,  across  country,  down  the  slope,  and 
entered  the  timber  cloaking  the  vale.  It  was  a  pleasant 
change;  the  pines  and  spruces  were  thick,  their  fresh 
tips  gave  forth  a  warming,  pungent  scent,  and  upon  the 
dried  needles  covering  the  sun-flecked  ground  the  hoofs 
of  mule  and  horses  fell  with  scarce  a  sound.  Among 
the  myriad  clean  trunks  wound  the  cavalcade — and 
suddenly  Phil  realized  that  they  were  upon  a  trail,  little 
trodden,  but  distinct. 

Grizzly  Dan  drew  rein  and  waited  for  the  pack  train 
to  close  up  on  him. 

"  That  sheep-herder  told  us  the  trail  to  Lost  Park 
was  t'other  side  the  ridge,  didn't  he?  "  he  asked.  And 
he  chuckled.  "  Wall,  we  don't  need  any  sheep  advice. 
This  hyar's  a  trail  made  before  he  or  you  war  born — 
an'  'fore  I  war  born,  either.  It's  the  old  North  Trail, 
whar  the  Injuns  traveled  'twixt  New  Mexico  and  clean 
up  in  Montana.  It  war  the  trail  for  war  parties  an* 
peace  parties  both.  It  air  two  thousand  miles  long; 
but  only  a  few  of  us  know  about  it,  now." 


44  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"Does  it  go  through  Lost  Park?"  asked  Chet. 

"  It  goes  through  one  end ;  but  thar's  an  old  trapper's 
trail  forks  off,  whar  we  go  in." 

"  Don't  we  go  by  Horsethief  Trail,  then?  "  queried 
Phil,  disappointed  to  be  deprived  of  hair-raising  thrills. 

Grizzly  Dan  chuckled  softly. 

"  Hosthief  Trail  air  the  trail  that  sheep-herder 
p'inted  us  to.  I'll  show  ye  wuss'n  the  Hosthief  Trail, 
boy,  if  you're  hankerin'  so.  We'll  go  in  at  t'other  end 
o'  the  park,  whar  thar's  elbow  room." 

He  rode  on.  With  gentle  jogging,  and  scarcely  a 
sound,  save  of  leather  creaking  and  canvas  occasionally 
rasping  upon  twig,  the  pack-march  proceeded.  Ever 
the  ancient  trail,  pressed  so  often  in  the  old  days  by 
moccasined  foot  and  by  nimble-hoofed  pony,  reached 
on  before,  threading  the  mazy  trunks.  Sometimes  it 
was  quite  broad,  and  well-defined,  making  an  aisle; 
sometimes  it  was  narrow  and  almost  imperceptible, 
where  the  brush  and  younger  trees  had  crowded  into  it ; 
and  where  it  crossed  the  small  open  places,  or  parks,  it 
could  not  be  descried  by  Phil  at  all.  But  Grizzly  Dan, 
seemingly  not  guiding  his  spotted  pony,  never 
hesitated ;  and  always  the  trail  appeared  again,  under 
hoof.  The  sun  was  behind ;  so  the  route  was  due  north. 

The  timber  grew  patchy,  interspersed  with  rocks, 
ledges,  and  boulders ;  the  way  pinched  to  a  little  canon, 
carpeted  by  grass  and  flowers,  hedged  by  walls  of  lime- 
stone, and  strewn  with  oddly  shaped  rock-masses  like 
statuary.  The  masses,  some  large,  some  small,  on  end, 
were  made  of  hardened  blue  mud  stuck  full  of  large 
pebbles,  like  raisins  in  a  pudding.  The  weather  had 


THROUGH    MEDICINE    CANON         45 

carved  the  masses,  set  on  end,  into  shapes  of  old 
women,  old  men,  dwarfs,  and  animals;  and  amidst 
them  jogged  the  pack-train.  Among  the  limestone 
ledges  of  the  side  walls  the  red  marmot,  or  Western 
ground-hog,  was  whistling.  An  enormous  fellow,  as 
large  as  a  spaniel,  sat  up  ahead,  erect  on  a  protruding 
shelf,  about  one  hundred  yards  distant.  Phil  was  just 
going  to  exclaim  at  his  size,  when  without  an  effort, 
and  scarcely  checking  his  pony,  Grizzly  Dan  swung  his 
long  rifle;  it  cracked,  echoing  in  the  defile,  and  down 
pitched  the  ground-hog,  to  lie  in  a  crumpled  heap  at  the 
base  of  the  wall. 

Chet  spurred  over. 

"Right  through  the  head!"  he  shouted.  "Good 
shot!  Want  him?" 

"  Fetch  him  hyar,  o'  course,"  bade  old  Dan.  "  Do 
'ee  suppose  I  waste  powder  an'  lead  ?  That's  our  sup- 
per." 

"Aw — who  eats  ground-hogs?"  grinned  Chet,  re- 
turning with  the  limp,  headless  carcass.  Yes,  old 
Dan's  bullet  had  struck  true. 

"  I  do,  and  so  do  you,"  assured  old  Dan,  as  with 
hunting-knife  he  deftly  disemboweled  the  spoil,  then 
hung  it  at  his  saddle  horn.  "  Do  'ee  think  I  kill  ani- 
miles  for  fun?  That  ain't  white  Injun  way.  I  war 
wrong  to  shoot  that  'er  chipmunk  back  a  ways — an'  I'd 
oughter  eat  him.  But  I  war  mad.  You'll  find  this 
hyar  hawg  air  prime  when  he  comes  out  the  pot.  An* 
after  you  boys  have  been  white  Injuns  awhile,  an'  trav- 
eled the  lean  trail,  you'll  Tarn  to  make  sartin  o'  yore 
meat-bag  as  you  go  along." 


46  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  I  guess  you  always  hit  them  in  the  head,  when  you 
shoot/*  volunteered  Phil,  from  the  rear. 

"  I  tries  to,  boy,"  responded  Grizzly  Dan.  "  To  hit 
'em  in  the  body  spiles  good  meat;  an'  it  air  pore 
shootin',  too.  No  mountain  man  shoots  his  meat  in 
the  body,  unless  it  air  bufFler  or  sheep,  mebbe." 

Brushing  against  one  of  the  agglomerate  masses, 
as  they  rode  on,  Phil  reached  and  plucked  a  piece  of 
flint.  It  was  an  arrow-head — an  Indian  arrow-head! 
He  called,  and  Chet  and  old  Dan  looked  back. 

"  Where'd  you  find  it?  "  asked  Chet. 

"  Sticking  in  the  clay  and  pebbles." 

"  Must  have  been  shot  in." 

"  Uh  huh." 

It  was  white  flint — two  inches  long  and  one  wide. 

"  Here's  another,"  shouted  Chet,  swinging  from  his 
horse  and  picking  up  a  small  object.  He  held  it  to 
view.  It  appeared  to  be  a  duplicate  of  Phil's  arrow- 
head. 

Now,  in  a  few  more  yards,  the  little  defile  opened 
out,  and  as  from  a  gate  the  riders  might  gaze  forth 
upon  a  round  basin,  set  at  the  farther  edge  with  a  lake, 
gleaming  like  a  great  opal.  Beyond  were  hill  after  hill, 
rising  wooded  and  bare,  surmounted  by  a  snowy  range ; 
and  through  a  cleft  could  be  descried  one  triangular 
peak  of  brightest  crimson.  The  spectacle  of  such  an 
unknown  world  made  Phil  draw  a  breath  quickened 
by  admiration.  Even  the  practical  Chet  murmured: 
*  There's  some  country,  all  right !  " 

Old  Dan  had  halted,  surveying.  He  sat  quietly, 
motionless,  as  if  he  also  was  impressed  by  the  scene. 


THROUGH    MEDICINE    CANON         47 

"  Yon's  Lost  Park,"  he  announced,  with  outward 
sweep  of  his  buckskin-clad  arm,  "  behind  that  snow 
range.  Let's  see  yore  arrow-heads." 

He  examined. 

"War  arrows,"  he  said.  "  Mebbe  Ute,  mebbe 
Sioux.  But  they  air  war  arrows,  by  the  barbs. 
Huntin'  arrow  points  air  smooth,  mostly.  I  reckon 
these  hyar  arrows  war  shot  in  that  big  fight  in  the 
canon,  in  Forty.  Know  about  it?" 

The  boys  shook  their  heads. 

"  This  air  Medicine  Canon,  and  more'n  ground 
hawgs  have  been  killed  in  it.  'Twar  in  the  spring  o' 
Eighteen-Forty  that  nine  Pawnees  from  the  South- 
west plains  come  'way  up  through  hyar  on  a  hos- 
stealin'  expedition  among  the  Sioux  o'  the  Laramie 
country  o'  Wyoming.  Those  Pawnees  war  the  wust 
hos-stealers  of  the  plains,  an'  they  war  the  wust 
fighters,  too.  Yes,  they  war  terrible  fighters.  But  the 
Sioux  got  after  'em,  an'  traveled  faster,  'cause  the  Paw- 
nees wouldn't  drop  their  herd  they'd  stole,  an'  they 
overtook  'em  hyarabouts.  The  Pawnees  corraled  in  this 
canon,  an'  thar  war  a  big  fight.  The  Pawnees  war 
nine,  the  Sioux  war  thirty ;  but  the  Pawnees  war  behind 
these  hyar  rocks,  an'  the  Sioux  had  to  drive  'em  out  if 
they  could.  They  fout  all  day,  an'  all  the  next  day.  The 
Sioux  war  afraid  o'  the  Pawnees ;  an'  after  they'd  got 
the  hosses  agin,  they  war  ready  to  quit.  They  sent 
in  word  to  the  Pawnees  to  call  off  the  fight  an'  they'd 
give  'em  a  hos  apiece  an'  let  'em  go  their  way  home; 
for  they  war  brave  men.  But  the  Pawnees  sent  back 
word  that  they'd  come  into  the  country  to  fight,  an* 


48  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

fight  they  would.  Then  the  Sioux  sent  word  that 
they'd  give  'em  two  hosses  apiece;  an'  the  Pawnees 
jeered.  The  Sioux  raised  the  offer  to  five  hosses 
apiece,  an'  the  Pawnees  called  the  Sioux  old  squaws 
an'  cowards  an'  dogs,  an'  dared  'em  to  close  in.  That 
made  the  Sioux  mad;  an'  they  proceeded  to  wipe  out 
the  Pawnees.  Then  the  Pawnees  knew  they  had  to 
die,  an'  they  war  glad,  an'  they  sung  their  death  songs 
an'  thar  war  an  all-day  fight  agin.  The  Sioux  air  ter- 
rible fighters,  too.  They  all  fout — nine  agin  thirty — 
till  only  two  Pawnees  war  left  alive.  Then  'cordin'  to 
custom  one  of  'em  war  chosen  to  bear  the  news  to  the 
village.  This  war  the  way :  when  a  party  war  wiped 
out  in  battle,  the  enemy  usually  let  one  go,  to  tell  the 
tribe  how  an'  whar  its  party  had  been  licked.  This 
war  to  make  the  tribe  feel  bad.  So  one  Pawnee  war 
allowed  to  pass — an'  he  hated  to  go;  he'd  rather  stay 
an'  die.  But  he  took  this  message :  *  Tell  our  people 
not  to  mourn ;  for  we  have  fout  like  warriors,  an'  we 
have  gone  to  the  beyond  chock  full  o'  Sioux,  clean  up 
to  the  neck.'  Yes,  I  reckon  those  air  Sioux  arrow- 
points." 

So  this  canon,  oddly  peopled  with  the  bluish  monu- 
ments, warm  in  the  sun  and  peaceful  with  its  whistling 
red  marmots,  once  had  resounded  to  savage  war- 
whoop  and  scalp-halloo,  to  shriek  of  rabid  anger  and 
triumph!  But  Phil's  thoughts  were  interrupted  by 
old  Dan  continuing: 

"You  see  that  'ere  red  tip?  That's  Red  Chief 
Mountain,  in  Lost  Park.  He's  an  old-time  landmark. 
We  pass  him.  I'll  show  you  some  lakes  wuth  seein', 


THROUGH    MEDICINE   CANON         49 

when  we  get  to  him.  Can  you  see  the  cross  on  his 
face  ?  He's  called  Cross  Mountain,  by  some.  See  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  the  boys,  squinting  and  peering. 

"  I  can't,  either,"  chuckled  old  Dan.  "  That  moun- 
tain's sixty  mile  from  hyar,  and  the  cross  is  on  t'other 
side.  We'll  ride  along  a  bit,  an'  make  noon  camp  by 
the  Beaver  Cache,  yonder.  Who's  that  comin'  ?  Wall, 
we  don't  care.  If  he  wants  to  speak  to  us,  he'll  know 
whar  to  find  us."  And  Grizzly  Dan  rode  on,  making 
diagonally  across  the  basin,  as  if  for  the  lake  at  the 
farther  edge. 

"  That "  was  a  speck  which  had  emerged  from  the 
rocks  and  scattered  growth  at  the  end  of  the  basin, 
and  was  moving  out  into  the  open.  Dan  had  desig- 
nated it  as  "  he,"  so  probably  it  was  a  horseman — • 
though  as  yet  it  was  but  a  dot. 

"  Man  on  a  hawss,  and  wearing  a  black  hat,  all 
right,"  declared  Chet,  seconding  old  Dan.  But  to 
Phil's  eyes,  not  yet  released  from  city  bonds  acquired 
during  the  winter,  man  and  hat  and  horse  were  one. 

As  the  pack-train  veered  to  the  farther  side  of  the 
basin,  the  dot  also  veered,  to  intercept.  It  evolved  into 
a  horse  and  rider — and  sure  enough  the  rider  wore  a 
black  hat,  of  broad  brim  and  high  crown. 

Grizzly  Dan  appeared  not  to  notice  his  approach. 
They  arrived  at  the  lake — and  beautiful  it  was :  em- 
erald in  color,  right  against  the  base  of  a  great  mass  of 
oddly  bright  yellow,  clayish  hummocks  for  one  half 
the  opposite  shore  line,  and  of  a  slope  of  serried  pines 
for  one  half. 

"  Jest  loosen  yore  cinches  a  little,  an'  we'll  turn  the 


50  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

critters  out  to  graze  around,"  quoth  Grizzly  Dan,  dis- 
mounting at  the  upper  end  of  the  lake,  opposite  the 
pines.  "  I'll  get  the  pot  on  the  fire  an'  we'll  fill  our 
meat-bags  on  this  hyar  hawg,  so  he  won't  spile." 

While  they  were  making  the  fire,  the  horseman  rode 
up  at  last.  He  was  a  slight,  boyish  man,  with  smooth 
though  tanned  face,  complexion  sandy,  and  eyes  hazel. 
His  horse  was  a  chestnut  with  white  breast.  Phil  noted 
the  greenish  drab  shirt  and  the  metal  badge  on  the 
breast.  The  newcomer  therefore  was  a  forest-ranger. 

"  Howdy,"  he  accosted,  reining  by  the  fire. 

"  Howdy,"  responded  the  boys ;  old  Dan  grunted, 
not  uncivilly. 

"  Packing  through?"  queried  the  youth. 

"  Mebbe,"  grunted  old  Dan. 

"  Prospecting,  I  take  it,"  pursued  the  youth,  his 
hazel  eyes  roving  over  the  equipage. 

"  Sorter,"  vouchsafed  old  Dan,  busy  with  the  fire 
and  the  pot. 

The  youth  glanced  at  the  two  boys  and  smiled.  He 
threw  a  leg  over  his  saddle  horn  and  sat  at  ease. 

"  Excuse  my  questions,"  he  proffered.  "  I'm  ranger 
in  this  district,  and  I  have  to  keep  tab  on  what's  going 
on.  You  don't  strike  me  as  liable  to  set  the  woods  on 
fire  or  do  anything  else  against  the  law,  but  if  I  hadn't 
ridden  over  I  might  have  got  the  dickens  later  for  what 
I  didn't  do.  Savvy?" 

"  Boss  in  hyar,  air  ye?  "  put  in  old  Dan. 

The  youth  laughed. 

"I?  No.  These  mountains  are  the  boss.  I'm  day 
and  night  herder  for  'em.  But  I've  got  several  hun- 


THROUGH    MEDICINE    CANON          51 

dred  square  miles  of  country  to  check  up — and  with 
these  Eastern  tenderfeet  hunting  bear  and  shooting 
wild  and  getting  lost,  it  keeps  me  busy  dodging  bullets 
and  looking  for  fires.  But  you  needn't  be  huffy,  Dan." 

"  Thought  I  knew  ye,"  admitted  old  Dan,  straight- 
ening, and  eying  him.  "  Met  ye  over  in  the  Box 
Canon  country,  didn't  I  ?  " 

"  You  sure  did.    Where  you  bound  for  now?  " 

"  I'm  taking  these  hyar  boys  into  Lost  Park,"  ad- 
mitted Dan,  mollified.  "  When  I  see  you  ridin'  up,  I 
thought  mebbe  you  war  some  game  warden  who'd 
want  to  arrest  me  for  shootin'  a  ground  hawg,  to  eat. 
Seems  to  me  a  man  can't  shoot  enough,  any  more,  to 
keep  life  in  him." 

"  Well,  if  it  wasn't  for  the  game  laws,  there  wouldn't 
be  anything  to  shoot,"  retorted  the  ranger.  "  You 
know  that.  Is  that  ground  hog,  in  the  pot?  Smells 
good." 

"  Get  down  an'  eat.  Get  down,  get  down,"  bade 
old  Dan.  "  You'll  find  hawg'll  shine  'longside  most 
any  meat." 

"  No,  I'll  ride  on.  Have  forty  miles  to  make  yet. 
How  you  going  into  the  park?  Not  the  Horsethief 
Trail?" 

"  'Round  by  Red  Chief." 

"  Oh,  I  see,"  said  the  ranger,  thoughtfully.  "  That's 
a  bad  trail.  It's  been  washed  out,  I  hear.  But  I 
guess  you'll  get  through — if  the  boys  have  their  nerve. 
Expect  to  trap  any  ?  " 

"  Might" 

"  Black  wolves  are  in  the  park,  I  hear.     I  saw  a 


52  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

couple,  at  the  other  end,  only  last  month.  They're 
killing  considerable  cattle,  on  the  Horsefly  Range. 
Must  have  come  up  from  New  Mexico." 

"  That  so  ?  I  ain't  heared  of  a  black  wolf  so  fur 
north  in  eight  or  ten  years,"  answered  old  Dan,  inter- 
ested. "  Wall,  now,  we  might  ketch  a  few  of  the  crit- 
ters. Must  be  a  bounty  on  'em?  " 

1  Twenty  dollars  on  the  gray,  thirty  on  the  black." 

"  Pelt's  wuth  consider'ble,  too,"  communed  old 
Dan. 

"  While  you're  in  the  park,  better  keep  your  eyes 
open  for  the  black  fox,  too,"  advised  the  ranger. 
"  That  black  fox  that  used  to  be  around  the  lower  coun- 
try has  moved  on  in,  so  a  sheep-herder  was  telling  me. 
Guess  the  sheep  drove  him  out,"  and  the  ranger 
laughed. 

1  That  fox  air  medicine,"  replied  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  That  air  a  medicine  fox.  He  can't  be  trapped,  shot, 
or  pizened.  He  war  one  of  those  Pawnees  killed  back 
in  Medicine  Canon.  An'  Old  Four-Toes  air  another. 
An'  mebbe  those  black  wolves  air  others." 

"  They're  all  in  there  together,  then,"  laughed  the 
ranger. 

"Seen  or  heard  anything  of  Four-Toes?"  asked 
Chet,  anxiously. 

The  ranger  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"The  big  silver  tip?  Nada;  not  I.  No  care  for 
him.  Not  much  of  the  park  is  in  my  district,  glad  to 
say.  I  ride  on  the  edge  and  look  over,  once  in  a  while ; 
but  I've  got  plenty  troubles,  without  inviting  more. 
If  Four-Toes  is  in  there,  it's  a  good  place  for  him; 


THROUGH    MEDICINE    CANON          53 

but  it's  a  mighty  poor  place  for  me  when  I  haven't  any 
business  there." 

This  appealed  to  Phil  as  sense.  Many  persons  come 
to  harm  by  being  where  they  have  no  business  to  be. 

"  Wall,"  remarked  old  Dan,  "  we  got  big  business 
thar,  ourselves.  Wagh!  We  have.  We're  white  In- 
juns, we  air."  And  half  straightening,  from  feeding 
the  fire,  he  began  to  circle  it,  with  a  dance  and  a  song : 

"  Owgh-owgh  hi-yah  hi-yah  owgh !  Hay-a-hay 
he-ah!  Owgh!  Owgh!  Ow-owgh!  Whoop!" 

Grotesque  was  old  Dan,  with  knees  partially  bent, 
moccasined  feet  stamping,  body  stiff,  face  uplifted, 
circling  the  fire  and  uttering  strange  guttural  sounds. 
Even  Bonita  gazed,  astonished.  The  boys  had  to 
laugh. 

"  Bueno !  "  applauded  the  ranger.  "  That'll  fetch 
(he  game.  So  long.  I'll  travel  on."  He  raised  his 
horse's  head  and  settled  in  the  saddle.  "  Wish  you 
luck." 

"  Same  to  you,"  answered  the  boys.    "  So  long." 

"  So  long."    And  he  rode  away. 

Old  Dan  had  settled  down  to  his  pot  again. 

"  Draw  up,"  he  bade.  "  'Tain't  fat  cow,  but  it's 
fillin';  an'  after  you've  eat  it  if  you  don't  say  good 
ground-hawg  shines  'longside  most  anything  you've 
sot  yore  teeth  on,  I'm  a  hos." 


CHAPTER  V, 

A  TRIAL  OF  NERVES 

THE  ancient  iron  pot  of  Grizzly  Dan's  was  a  magic 
pot,  for  whatever  came  out  of  it  tasted  good.  Phil 
found  that  the  ground-hog  meat  was  not  dissimilar  to 
the  prairie  dog,  in  appearance,  but  was  rather  more 
greasy;  yet  it  slipped  nicely  over  his  palate  into  what 
Dan  termed  the  "  meat-bag."  And  by  the  frequency 
with  which  Chet  also  helped  himself  to  the  stew,  he 
had  no  complaint  to  make. 

"  What  was  that  dance,  Dan?  "  ventured  Phil,  com- 
fortable inside  and  out.  "  Sioux?  " 

"That?  That  war  Cheyenne,  boy,  I  reckon,"  as- 
serted old  Dan,  promptly,  lighting  his  short  black  pipe. 
"  Never  see  anybody  dance  genuwine  Injun  afore,  did 
ye  ?  Didn't  dance  enough  of  it  to  know  what  it  war  to 
be,  myself — but  I  reckon  I  started  in  on  Cheyenne. 
Wagh !  When  I  war  young  like  you,  many  a  time  I've 
danced  all  night  long  with  the  bucks,  'round  the  fire, 
helpin'  'em  celebrate  somethin'  or  t'other.  That  war 
my  dancin'.  Like  as  not  you've  done  yore  dancin'  dif- 
ferent." 

"When  do  we  get  into  the  park,  do  you  think?" 
asked  Chet. 

"  We'll  camp  on  the  edge  of  it  to-night,  if  the  trail 
air  not  too  bad.  So  let's  rinse  these  dishes  an'  then 

64 


A    TRIAL   OF    NERVES  55 

ketch  up.  You  boys  'tend  to  the  dishes  an'  I'll  tighten 
the  packs  a  bit." 

The  preliminaries  were  quickly  done.  Mounted,  the 
little  party  rode  on  again. 

"  All  this  hyar  basin  war  once  a  big  beaver  pond," 
quoth  old  Dan,  turning  in  his  saddle,  as  they  circuited 
the  lake.  "  Twenty  of  us  trappers  under  Kit  Carson 
one  Fall  took  two  thousand  beaver  outer  this  pond.  It 
war  hard  on  the  beaver,  but  we  sold  their  pelts  in  St. 
Joe.  We  had  an  easy  time.  A  village  o'  Utes  war 
camped  near,  an'  the  squaws  skinned  the  beaver  an' 
dressed  the  pelts  for  a  little  sugar  and  the  car- 


casses." 


"Are  there  any  beaver  where  we're  going?"  put 
Phil. 

'  Yes,  but  it's  agin  the  law  to  trap  'em,  and  agin  the 
law  to  buy  their  pelts.  Beaver  air  increasin'  agin, 
though,  now  that  they  air  let  alone.  We  got  this  hill 
to  climb.  Timber  too  thick  on  t'other  end  o'  lake. 
We'll  tackle  the  slumgullion." 

This  was  the  yellow  mass  which  hedged  the  lake  on 
the  south.  It  rose  in  a  series  of  high  dunes,  meeting  to 
form  narrow  passages  winding  between  their  rounded 
slopes.  Having  made  circuit  of  the  end  of  the  lake, 
up  one  of  these  inlets  Grizzly  Dan  turned  his  spotted 
pony.  Chet  followed,  and  followed  the  dun  mule  and 
Cotton-tail,  while  Phil,  as  customary,  closed  the  rear. 
As  if  subdued  by  the  strangeness  of  the  surroundings, 
Bonita  trotted  soberly  at  Pepper's  heels. 

The  slumgullion  proved  to  be  fine  ashes  packed  by 
weather  until  they  were  like  clay.  They  were  yellow 


56  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

ashes,  mixed  with  streaks  of  gray,  white,  and  red, 
combining  or  distinct.  The  hoofs  of  the  animals  sank 
fetlock  deep,  and  made  no  sound.  Now  upon  right 
and  left  and  before  and  behind  rose  the  dunes,  shutting 
in.  A  coyote  had  traversed  the  narrow  defile,  and  old 
Dan  either  was  taking  it  as  a  guide,  or  was  pushing 
ahead  by  instinct.  The  slumgullion  was  moist,  there- 
fore no  dust  uprose;  but  the  way  was  weird  beyond 
any  trail  yet  traversed  by  Phil  in  all  his  riding  of  the 
West.  It  reminded  him  of  the  ashy  desolation  at- 
tributed to  the  moon. 

The  ride  along  the  bottom  of  the  crooked  passage 
between  the  high  yellowish  mounds  continued  for  fif- 
teen minutes,  when  rounding  a  curve  the  tracks  in 
which  Pepper  trod  swerved,  and  ascended.  The  pro- 
cession climbed  the  right-hand  slope — horses  and  mule 
slipping  and  toiling,  almost  like  the  frog  in  the  well — 
until  they  gained  the  top.  Pepper  was  puffing,  but 
Grizzly  Dan  had  forged  right  ahead,  and  the  rest  had 
to  follow  or  be  left  behind. 

The  top  proved  to  be  a  level  plateau,  formed  by  one 
great  mass  of  the  ashes,  and  stretching  onward  to  the 
base  of  another  series  of  hilly  formations.  Grizzly 
Dan  seemed  bent  upon  crossing  the  plateau ;  he  spurred 
his  pinto  into  a  trot;  trotted  all — the  packs  swaying 
upon  the  mule  and  Cotton-tail. 

The  plateau  was  yellow,  with  flakes  of  white  ash  and 
with  black  slag  like  clinkers  from  a  furnace  spotting  it. 
On  either  hand,  in  the  distance,  were  high,  wildly 
jagged  mountains,  and  before  was  that  series  of  hills 
almost  mountains,  smooth  and  rolling  like  a  pass.  And 


A    TRIAL    OF    NERVES  57 

above  them  towered  the  crimson  cap  of  Red 
Chief. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it?  "  yelled  back  Chet. 

"  Great !  "  answered  Phil.  "  Must  have  had  a  big 
fire  here  once." 

"  Shore  did,"  agreed  Chet. 

"  You  mix  this  ash  with  some  buff'ler  tallow  and  it 
makes  trapper  soap,"  informed  Grizzly  Dan,  over  his 
shoulder.  "  Used  to  call  this  hyar  '  Soft  Soap  Flats/ 
When  we  wanted  to  wash,  once  or  twice  a  year,  we 
come  hyar !  " 

Having  dipped  into  several  shallow  gullies,  and  hav- 
ing been  obliged  to  make  a  detour  around  several 
deeper  ones,  after  half  an  hour's  ride  (so  vast  was  the 
ash  deposit)  they  reached  the  edge  of  it.  Now  the 
plateau  fell  off  steeply,  like  any  ash-heap,  with  a  well- 
defined  edge;  below,  after  a  succession  of  banks  or 
terraces,  five  hundred  feet,  was  a  wide,  flat  valley,  cut 
by  arroyos  and  a  crooked  stream.  By  the  tinkle  of 
bells,  the  barking  of  a  dog,  and  the  white  spot  of  a 
tent  was  plainly  signaled  the  presence  there  of  sheep. 
No  place  too  remote  or  too  isolated  for  sheep  and  their 
herders. 

On  the  edge  of  the  ash  plateau  old  Dan  halted 
for  a  moment,  and  the  cavalcade  bunched  beside 
him. 

"  Yes,"  he  mumbled,  surveying  from  under  his 
bushy  brows,  "  thar  they  air.  If  it  ain't  sheep  it's 
cattle,  an'  if  it  ain't  cattle  it's  prospector  or  rancher 
or  homesteader  or  reservoir  gang  openin'  the  country 
for  all  the  rest.  So  thar's  no  place  whar  an  old  fellow 


58  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

like  me  can  go.  They  air  raisin'  oats  whar  I  trapped 
the  beaver,  an'  whar  fifty  year  ago  I  broke  the  trail 
a  lot  o'  foreign  Injuns  laugh  at  me.  An'  now  you  say 
that  'ere  Swede  back  thar  thinks  o'  takin'  his  woollies 
into  Lost  Park!  Then  this  air  my  last  year  in  the 
mountains." 

He  spoke  so  sadly,  that  Phil  would  cheer  him  up. 

"  Sure  not.    You're  good  for  a  lot  of  years  yet." 

Old  Dan  slowly  wagged  his  head. 

"  I'm  over  eighty.  All  the  men  I  used  to  know — 
Jim  Bridger,  Kit  Carson,  the  Sublettes,  Colonel  Fre- 
mont, Joe  Walker,  they  all  air  gone  under.  I'm  good 
yet,  but  the  country  an'  the  people  aren't  my  kind. 
They  got  no  use  for  the  flintlock  rifle  an*  the  beaver- 
hunter  who  opened  the  trails.  We  prepared  the 
country  for  these  hyar  sheep  an'  cows  an'  ranchers  an' 
ditches  an'  fences!  an'  it  air  time  we  quit.  We  all 
have  our  work  to  do ;  mine  is  done,  an'  I  reckon  I  can 
step  aside  an'  let  the  others  go  ahead  with  theirs. 
Sometimes  I  think  the  old  days  war  the  best — but  the 
world  is  better  off  for  these  new  days.  For  us  it  war  the 
beaver  an'  the  roamin' ;  for  you  boys  it  air  the  ranch 
an'  the  home.  An'  you  will  do  more  good  with  one 
acre  o'  the  land  which  the  Lord  has  provided  than  we 
did  with  a  thousand.  But  ketch  up,  ketch  up.  Let's 
be  movin'.  Too  much  talk;  heap  too  much;  talk  like 
squaws,  wagh !  " 

They  did  not  try  to  descend  the  ash-heap,  but  rode 
along  the  edge,  which  curved  in  a  mighty  sweep  to- 
ward the  rolling  high  hills  and  the  beacon  of  Red  Chief. 
The  air  was  mellow,  yet  clear  and  thin,  almost  crisp, 


A    TRIAL   OF    NERVES  59 

the  sunshine  was  warm,  the  view  was  inspiring,  the 
trail  was  level ;  and  thus,  alone  and  aloof,  they  rode  at 
an  amble  for  the  unknown. 

Soon  the  ash  and  slag  grew  less  pronounced,  and 
the  trail  entered  upon  the  side  of  a  gravelly  hill.  How- 
ever, trail  it  scarcely  was,  except  as  they  made  it. 
There  were  only  traces  that  the  way  had  been  traveled 
a  long  time  ago;  in  a  slight  crease  it  stretched  on 
before.  The  hill  grew  steeper,  and  a  long  slant  of 
grayish,  loose,  shaly  rock  extended  above  and  below. 
Should  the  hoof  of  horse  or  mule  slip,  then  down  would 
animal  and  man  or  pack  toboggan,  indefinitely,  to  the 
far  bottom,  with  the  chances  of  landing  in  a  damaged 
condition. 

"  How  do  you  like  it?  "  called  back  Chet. 

"Great!"  assured  Phil. 

"  Dan  says  this  is  nothing ;  there's  worse  ahead. 
Says  he'll  show  us  something  that'll  make  the  Hawss- 
thief  Trail  look  like  thirty  cents !  " 

"  All  right,"  challenged  Phil.  "  We  can  go  where 
he  can  go." 

Now  they  were  traversing  the  middle  of  a  tre- 
mendous long  slope  of  the  gray  slide  rock.  The  trail 
was  a  mere  crease  like  the  mark  made  by  a  stick  drawn 
across  the  side  of  a  heap  of  cinders.  Snow  lay  in 
patches;  above  was  the  monotonous  expanse  of  the 
shale,  below  was  the  monotonous  expanse  of  the  shale, 
and  across  arose  another  expanse  of  the  shale,  and  be- 
tween, and  away  below,  was  the  separating  gulch,  not 
more  than  twenty  feet  wide.  As  the  pack-train  passed 
along,  hurrying  as  fast  as  was  safe,  a  constant  stream 


60  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

of  the  loose  rock,  dislodged  by  the  movement,  went 
rattling  down.  Phil  realized  that  if  any  horse  or  per- 
son rattled  down,  too,  he  was  likely  to  stay  there. 

After  about  a  mile  of  this  dangerous  slide-rock, 
the  trail  changed — and,  as  Chet  had  predicted,  changed 
for  the  worse.  They  entered  a  region  of  granite 
chunks — nothing  but  chunks,  fallen  from  the  cliffs 
above,  and  spattered  thickly,  as  if  a  wall  of  gigantic 
bricks  or  blocks  had  fallen  flat  and  burst.  Phil  heard 
Chet  exclaiming  and  complaining,  before;  but  he  had 
enough  to  do  to  attend  to  himself  and  Pepper,  and 
watch  Cotton-tail.  The  trail  was  only  a  few  scratches 
on  the  rocks.  Among  the  huge  sharp-cornered  frag- 
ments it  led,  twisting  and  turning;  occasionally  man 
and  animal  had  to  climb  over,  where  there  was  not 
space  to  pass  between.  Some  of  the  masses  were  as 
large  as  a  cottage ;  some  were  as  large  as  piano-boxes, 
and  some  were  no  larger  than  easy-chairs.  With 
scrape  and  scramble  and  shout  and  snort  the  cavalcade 
made  its  way.  Phil  had  dismounted,  to  relieve  Pepper 
and  to  save  himself  from  a  broken  leg,  should  Pepper 
stumble ;  and  a  view  ahead  showed  him  that  Chet  also 
was  wisely  afoot.  But  not  old  Dan.  He  was  sticking 
to  his  spotted  pony. 

Somehow,  with  scraped  shins,  but  without  broken 
limbs,  they  all  achieved  this  giants'  quarry,  and 
emerged  into  a  brief  interval  of  sod  and  flowers.  Here 
old  Dan  was  waiting;  and  here  the  heaving  animals 
were  halted. 

"  Got  to  strip  to  top  packs,  now,"  quoth  Grizzly 
Dan,  dismounting.  "  Thar's  a  leetle  trail  ahead  whar 


A    TRIAL    OF    NERVES  61 

we  hain't  much  room  to  spare,  'cept  up  and  down. 
Jest  loosen  up  that  pack  on  that  bald-tailed  critter,  will 
you,  whilst  I  overhaul  my  old  mule." 

"  Must  be  a  mighty  narrow  trail,  then,"  volunteered 
Chet,  "  if  a  pack  mule  can't  follow  it." 

"  You'll  see,"  grunted  old  Dan,  shortly,  tugging  at 
the  lash-rope. 

Betty's  side  packs  were  taken  off,  and  only  the  top 
pack  was  left;  even  this  Grizzly  Dan  refolded  more 
snugly,  so  that  it  did  not  project  much  on  either 
side.  He  tied  it  fast  with  a  lashing  different  from 
the  diamond  hitch,  and  a  very  simple  knot  it  seemed 
to  be. 

"  That's  a  tie  older'n  I  be,"  he  observed.  "  That's 
the  squaw  hitch,  an'  we  used  to  call  it  the  trapper's 
hitch,  too.  Now  lemme  get  at  yore  critter.  Thar. 
We'll  have  to  double  up.  We'll  take  these  hyar  packs 
over,  an'  then  come  back  for  the  rest." 

Leaving  the  panniers  and  the  two  buffalo-hide  sacks, 
with  old  Dan  as  usual  leading,  they  started  on,  the  line 
forming. 

"  You  two  boys'd  better  both  ride  behind,"  he 
ordered.  And  Chet  fell  back,  to  join  in  again  between 
Fhil  and  Cotton-tail. 

From  the  small  park,  which  was  an  oasis  in  the 
midst  of  the  rocks  and  steep  slopes,  the  trail  resumed 
its  difficult  character.  Now  ensued  a  wide  patch  of 
hard,  icy  snow,  slanting  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  and 
ending  in  the  gulch  below.  It  was  a  lovely  place  for 
a  mile-a-minute  coast  if  a  fellow  did  not  mind  how  he 
ended;  but  it  was  better  fitted  for  runners  than  for 


62  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

hoofs.  However,  they  were  in  for  it;  and  old  Dan, 
with  lines  hanging  slack,  let  his  pony  pick  its  slow  and 
straddly  way  across;  the  pack  animals  followed,  and 
Chet  and  Phil  were  not  to  be  bluffed.  The  hoofs  cut 
in  just  enough  for  a  foothold. 

"  Had  to  do  it  now  whilst  the  snow  is  soft ;  if  we 
waited  till  the  sun  was  off  it,  we'd  be  held  up  till  to- 
morrer  noon  unless  we  chopped  a  trail  for  the  crit- 
ters," called  back  old  Dan. 

He  rounded  a  corner  or  elbow  of  the  hillside.  The 
pack  mule,  next,  hesitated  ("  Gwan!  "  yelped  Chet  at 
her)  and  proceeded  also.  Cotton-tail  rounded  the  turn, 
— Chet  rounded  the  turn — "  Say !  "  echoed  back  his  as- 
tonished voice — and  Phil  rounded  the  turn. 

Whew !  Well  had  the  mule  hesitated ;  well  had  Chet 
exclaimed;  for  beyond  the  rock  elbow  was  nothing — 
nothing  but  a  yawning  canon,  and  a  rock  wall,  and  a 
slight  shelf,  midway,  forming  a  narrow  platform  for 
the  trail.  Ahead  was  old  Dan,  on  his  spotted  pony, 
his  rifle  carried  against  his  thigh,  he  and  pony  appear- 
ing stuck  like  a  large  bug  against  the  side  of  the  cliff. 
After  him,  walking  carefully,  head  and  tail  lowered, 
trod  the  two  pack  animals — by  their  packs  forced 
so  to  the  edge  that  it  crumbled  under  their  hoofs. 
After  them  rode  Chet.  He  looked  back  at  Phil  and 
grinned. 

"  How  you  like  it?  "  he  queried. 

"  We  can  go  where  he  can  go,"  retorted  Phil. 

But  assuredly  this  was  no  fun.  Five  hundred  feet 
above  the  flimsy  trail  rose  perpendicularly  the  gray 
rock  wall ;  below  fell  off  in  sheer  drop  or  in  successions 


A    TRIAL   OF    NERVES  63 

of  abrupt  slopes  a  thousand  feet  of  jagged  crags  min- 
gled with  loose  sifting  whereon  grew  a  few  stunted 
cedars  and  bushes.  And  away  at  the  bottom  rushed  a 
stream.  Phil's  left  foot  scratched  against  the  canon 
wall ;  his  right  dangled  out  over  the  abyss.  Pepper  was 
obstinately  bound  to  tread  upon  the  very  edge,  and  to 
send  bits  of  the  rock  trickling  or  bounding  into  the 
depths.  Pepper  walked  thus  because  he  feared  scrap- 
ing against  the  wall,  himself,  and  perhaps  being  forced 
off.  But  the  sensation  of  dangling  one  leg  over  noth- 
ing was  not  pleasant,  to  his  rider,  who  tried  to  rein 
him  further  in.  As  this  made  no  impression,  Phil 
could  only  hug  Pepper  with  his  inside  foot,  and  must 
lean  inward,  under  the  impression  that  if  Pepper  fell, 
he  would  fall  inside  and  not  outside. 

Chet  also  leaned ;  but  old  Dan  rode  straight  up,  ap- 
parently unconcerned. 

So,  with  rattle  of  the  loosened  fragments  and  occa- 
sional snort  of  anxious  horse  and  mule,  the  cavalcade 
proceeded  along  the  peril-proffering  trail.  The  trail 
dipped  and  wound;  sometimes  it  inclined  down  until 
the  roar  of  the  torrent  could  be  heard,  as  a  murmur ; 
and  then  it  climbed  again  until  the  murmur  was  lost 
and  the  only  interruption  was  the  scream  of  a  magpie 
winging  dizzy  flight  across  the  tremendous  chasm. 
Sometimes  the  trail  bordered  a  slope  choked  by  debris 
of  various  character,  so  that  a  slip  might  result  only 
in  a  long  slide  instead  of  in  a  sheer  drop  and  a  deadly 
thump  at  the  bottom.  And  again  underneath  was  prin- 
cipally an  edge  bordered  by  space.  Phil  grew  more 
confident,  and  actually  was  admiring  the  grandeur, 


64  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

when  suddenly  all  the  method  and  peace  of  the  march 
was  rent  asunder  by  a  loud  cry  from  old  Dan.  Chet  ex- 
claimed. Phil  looked  quickly,  his  heart  in  his  mouth. 
He  witnessed  a  strange  sight.  Trotting  rapidly  toward 
the  leader  came  two  objects  that  looked  like  burros. 
They  of  course  occupied  the  whole  width  of  the  trail ; 
Dan  upon  his  spotted  pony  also  occupied  the  whole 
width  of  the  trail;  and  to  turn  out  or  to  turn  around 
was  impossible. 

"  Sheep!  "  announced  Chet.  "  Oh,  jiminy!  Some- 
thing's chasing  'em,  too!  See?  Bear!  A  bear!" 

"  Hi !  "  yelled  old  Dan,  waving  his  arm  frantic- 
ally. His  spotted  pony  had  halted,  uncertain  and 
alarmed.  The  sheep  also  had  paused — to  gaze  back- 
ward, and  then,  with  frightened  jumps,  .to  come 
right  on. 

"  Mountain  sheep!  "  informed  Chet;  and  he  added, 
energetically  :  "  A  big  bear !  Take  down  yore  gun ! 
Don't  let  'em  force  Dan  off  the  trail !  " 

But  Dan  had  been  lightning  quick.  His  own  long 
rifle  had  sprung  to  his  shoulder.  The  smoke  puffed ; 
and  the  sharp  crack  echoed  flatly  among  the  canon 
walls.  But  almost  before  the  report  had  reached  the 
ears  of  the  boys  the  first  sheep  had  plunged  head  first 
over  the  edge,  to  roll  and  bound  unresisting  down  the 
uneven  slope.  The  other  sheep,  with  a  mighty  and 
desperate  leap,  plunged  after;  and  turning  over  and 
over  reached  the  bottom  as  soon  as  its  companion. 
Both  seemed  to  land  dead. 

The  eyes  of  the  boys  left  them,  for  the  worst  was 
not  yet  over.  There  was  the  bear!  Yes,  a  bear  he 


A    TRIAL   OF    NERVES  65 

proved  to  be ;  an  enormous  burly  fellow,  dark  brown, 
occupying  all  the  trail,  blocking  it  to  passage.  He 
came  at  fast  trot,  head  up,  sniffing. 

"  Look  out !  "  cried  Phil,  uselessly ;  for  his  voice 
was  small  and  thin  in  this  great  space  of  canon,  and 
old  Dan  was  far  ahead. 

"Give  it  to  him!"  implored  Chet.  "Give  it  to 
him!  Shoot  him  up!  I  can't.  The  hawsses  are  in 
my  way." 

"  I  can't,  either,"  replied  Phil. 

Meanwhile  old  Dan  was  valiantly  trying  to  reload. 
But  his  pony,  backing  and  trembling  and  swerving, 
and  the  proximity  of  the  wall,  seriously  interfered  with 
his  movements,  besides  putting  him  in  more  danger. 
Twice  he  and  pony  together  tottered  upon  the  very 
edge.  Scarcely  hesitating,  the  bear  trotted  forward. 
The  trail  was  almost  straight,  and  he  partially  was  cov- 
ered by  the  pack-animals  and  by  Dan  and  his  pony. 
Phil  and  Chet  strained  to  sight  and  to  shoot ;  from  the 
rear  Bonita  growled  fiercely. 

"We'll  scare  the  horses,  won't  we?"  queried  Phil. 

"  Don't  care,"  answered  Chet.     "  Shoot!  " 

Old  Dan  emitted  another  piercing  whoop.  The  bear, 
right  upon  the  spotted  pony,  reared  tall  and  vicious  and 
wide-mouthed.  Now  the  whole  line  of  animals  was 
weaving  and  jostling.  Unable  to  load  in  his  cramped 
quarters  and  upon  the  uneasy  saddle,  old  Dan  leaned 
forward  and  smote  at  the  bear's  head.  Chet's  rifle 
spoke  with  a  bang  sounding  like  a  cannon,  startling 
Phil,  and  startling  Pepper.  Over  the  edge  toppled  the 
bear — and  bang !  bang !  bang !  hammered  away  at  him, 


66  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

in  his  rubber-ball  course,  both  the  boys.  But  beware! 
For  over  that  same  edge  slipped  the  spotted  pony,  and 
down  they  plunged,  man  and  horse! 

"  Oh,  say!  "  groaned  Chet. 

Phil  was  unable  to  utter  a  word ;  his  tongue  was  par- 
alyzed; and  he  watched,  stiff  as  in  a  nightmare. 

At  the  instant  of  the  slip,  marvelously  quick  in  his 
mind  and  muscle,  old  Dan  had  thrown  himself  clear; 
casting,  as  it  were,  the  spotted  pony  from  him,  and 
falling  in  the  opposite  direction,  free  of  it.  He  landed 
on  his  side ;  but  in  a  flash  he  had  turned  upon  his  back, 
and  with  arms  outspread  clutched  right  and  left  while 
he  dug  in  with  his  heels.  The  slope  was  very  steep, 
but  fortunately  this  was  not  a  precipice  drop  from  the 
trail ;  it  was  one  of  those  long  slants  of  loose  rocks  and 
earth  and  brush.  In  an  avalanche  of  rocks  and  dirt  and 
almost  hidden  from  view,  hoofs  and  stirrups  flying, 
now  one  end  up,  now  the  other,  down  slid  the  spotted 
pony ;  but  old  Dan  stayed. 

"  Come  on !  "  bade  Chet,  excited,  to  his  comrade  be- 
hind and — "  Gwan,  you!  Gwan!  Hi!  Gwan!"  he 
ranted,  at  the  pack  animals  before.  The  dun  mule,  ears 
back,  balked  a  moment,  then  stepped  gingerly  forward, 
snorting  and  smelling  to  make  certain  that  the  coast 
was  clear ;  Cotton-tail  imitated.  The  boys  might  move 
forward. 

"  He's  alive!  "  cried  Phil,  gladly. 

Chet  did  not  answer.  However,  old  Dan  was  alive. 
With  heels  and  hands  he  had  stopped  his  progress,  and 
about  thirty  yards  below  he  was  cautiously  adjusting 
himself  to  a  firmer  posture.  The  two  pack  animals  con- 


A   TRIAL   OF    NERVES  67 

tinued  on  past,  but  the  boys  halted  their  horses  above 
and  called  down: 

"Hurt?" 

"  No,"  answered  old  Dan.  "  Jest  lost  a  leetle  hide, 
air  all.  But  you  stay  up  thar.  Don't  you  try  it.  Did 
you  see  that  'ere  b'ar?  " 

Of  course  they  had. 

"  Sure.     Maybe  we  killed  him,  too." 

"  No,  you  didn't  kill  him,"  contradicted  old  Dan. 
"  That  war  a  she  cinnamon,  he  war." 

"Didn't  I  hit  him?" 

"  Fust  shot  struck  two  foot  over  her  head.  I  heared 
it  an'  I  saw  it 

"  We  were  afraid  of  hitting  you,"  explained  Chet. 

"  An'  next  shots  didn't  count  for  much,  I  reckon, 
tho'  I  war  too  busy  to  watch  'em.  See  my  hos  ?  " 

"  Yes.  He's  standing — guess  he  isn't  much  hurt, 
either." 

"  How  are  you  coming  up  ?  We  can  rope  you, 
maybe,"  suggested  Phil. 

"  Ropes  ain't  long  enough.  Only  forty  foot,  ain't 
they?  Wall,  I'm  out  o'  reach.  I  ain't  comin'  up;  I 
air  goin'  on  down.  Thar's  a  hos  an'  two  sheep  an' 
a  b'ar  down  thar."  Old  Dan  turned  painfully  and 
peered  below.  "  Yep.  My  old  paint  hos  is  on  four 
legs.  Wagh !  But  he  can't  fight  b'ar,  an'  he  can't  eat 
sheep;  so  jest  wait  till  I  get  Sally,  an'  we'll  go  on 
down." 

He  crawled,  carefully,  for  his  rifle,  which  had 
stopped  above  him  a  few  yards.  He  managed  to  haul 
himself  up  that  far,  by  a  bush. 


68  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  You  keep  on  to  the  end  o'  this  hyar  canon,"  he 
called  up.  "  Then  you  unpack  an'  go  back  an'  get  the 
rest  o'  the  camp  stuff,  an'  I'll  meet  you  when  you  come 
out  agin.  So  long!  "  and  in  a  flurry  of  the  loose  slope 
he  plunged  for  the  bottom. 


CHAPTER  VI 

A   CLOSE  SHAVE  FOR  CHET 

"  COME  on,"  spoke  Chet  to  Phil.  "  We've  got  to 
hurry."  And  he  stirred  Medicine  Eye  into  a  walk  as 
fast  as  practicable  upon  such  a  trail.  On  Pepper, 
Phil  followed  close. 

The  trail  continued  narrow  and  terror-inspiring, 
along  the  wall  extending  above  and  the  canon  extend- 
ing below.  But  the  need  of  haste,  and  the  unconcerned 
manner  with  which  old  Dan  had  received  his  fall, 
rather  blunted  the  edge  of  the  perils  that  threatened. 
Recklessly  urging  their  horses,  on  pushed  the  two 
riders;  and  just  as  the  canon  opened  into  a  shallow 
valley,  and  the  trail  merged  with  the  ground,  they  over- 
took the  two  pack  animals,  cropping  and  waiting  fur- 
ther orders. 

"  Unpack  'em  and  drive  them  back,"  prompted  Chet. 
"  There's  the  rest  of  that  stuff  to  bring  through." 

"  Think  we'd  better  not  look  for  Dan  ?  He  may  need 
help,"  proposed  Phil,  eying  the  exit  of  the  gulch  which 
marked  the  existence  of  the  canon  beyond. 

"  No.  He'll  take  care  of  himself.  He  said  to  get 
the  rest  of  the  stuff  over,  didn't  he  ?  " 

That  was  enough.  They  were  under  orders.  So, 
working  rapidly,  they  stripped  of  their  packs  Betty  the 
dun  mule  and  Cotton-tail  the  horse,  and  turning  them 

69 


70  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

around  drove  them  upon  the  back  trail.  Now  the 
whole  length  of  that  narrow  shelf  suspended  between 
sky  and  rocks  had  to  be  retraversed — not  once,  but 
twice ! 

"  Gwan !  "  urged  Chet,  driving.  "  Gwan,  mule ! 
Cotton-tail !  Close  up,  there !  " 

"Will  we  make  it?"  asked  Phil,  suddenly 
noticing  that  the  sun  was  low,  and  likely  to  touch  the 
opposite  rim  before  they  could  complete  their  round 
trip. 

"Got  to,"  answered  Chet,  succinctly.  "Gwan! 
Hi!" 

That  was  Chet,  in  action.  He  never  considered  the 
"  might ;  "  he  always  considered  the  "  must."  When 
he  had  been  assigned  to  do  a  thing,  he  went  ahead  and 
did  it.  Now  all  his  attention  was  bent  upon  bringing 
back  those  other  packs;  he  did  not  stop  to  wonder 
whether  he  could  or  not.  So  they  pushed  on. 

The  shelf  was  bathed  all  in  light  from  the  afternoon 
sun,  now  opposite.  It  cast  the  bottom  of  the  canon  in 
shadow.  They  could  not  see  the  details,  down  there; 
Phil  looked  and  looked  for  old  Dan  and  his  spotted 
pony,  but  never  was  certain  that  he  saw  them.  They 
would  be  having  a  hard  time  to  make  a  way,  amidst  the 
rocks,  brush,  and  stream.  But  as,  driving  the  two  pack 
animals,  he  and  Chet  hurred  along,  faint  and  clear 
was  wafted  to  them  from  below  the  crack  of  a  rifle. 
It  sounded  like  the  voice  of  Sally. 

"  There  he  is !  That's  Dan !  "  asserted  Chet.  "  See 
him?  He's  over  against  that  other  side." 

Chet  pointed;  and  Phil  could  descry  the  dot  of  the 


A    CLOSE    SHAVE    FOR    CHET          71 

spotted  pony,  and  as  if  leading  it,  the  speck  that  de- 
noted Dan. 

"He's  going-  out,"  announced  Chet  "He's  all 
right."  Chet's  eyes  were  sharp.  So  were  his  wits. 
"  That's  just  a  signal.  Let's  answer  it,"  and  jerking 
out  his  rifle  he  fired :  "  Whang!  "  The  echoes  chased 
back  and  forth  and  died. 

Phil  waved  his  arm  and  hooted;  then  he  quit,  half 
ashamed.  What  were  hoot  and  wave  of  arm,  amidst 
such  distances !  Old  Dan  could  not  hear,  and  whether 
he  could  see  and  had  waved  back,  who  might  say  ? 

The  return  trail,  to  the  snow-slide  place  at  the 
beginning,  did  not  seem  so  long  as  when  traversed  the 
other  way. 

"  Gwan!  Hurry  up,  there,  you!  "  urged  Chet;  but 
at  the  edge  of  the  snow  the  dun  mule  balked,  refusing 
to  advance. 

"  Gwan ! "  shouted  both  boys,  to  no  purpose ;  and 
Chet  impatiently  flung  himself  from  Medicine  Eye, 
to  forge  to  the  front.  Even  as  he  did  so  he  uttered  a 
little  cry  of  dismay;  for  across  the  slant  of  icy-snow 
crept  a  shadow,  and  into  the  air  crept  a  sudden  chill. 
The  sun  was  behind  a  jagged  crest  in  the  west;  and 
while  the  canon  trail,  higher  along  the  face  of  the  wall, 
still  was  illuminated,  the  snow  field  would  receive 
the  beams  no  more  until  the  morrow. 

"  It's  getting  hard  already,^'  proclaimed  Chet,  stamp- 
ing the  edge  with  his  heel.  "  That's  what  ails  the 
mule.  She  isn't  shod,  and  she's  afraid." 

Smart  mule,  she. 

The  trail  across  the  sharp  slant,  broken  by  hoofs 


72  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

only  two  hours  before,  was  clearly  defined,  and  wait- 
ing. But  instantly,  as  the  sun  had  left  it,  all  the  little 
particles  crystallized;  and  now  as  Chet  afoot  ventured 
upon  it,  his  soles  crunched  and  slipped,  with  an  omi- 
nous sound  that  caused  the  animals,  incited  by  the 
action  of  the  dun  mule,  to  prick  their  ears. 

"  I'll  chip  these  chunks  loose,  for  a  foothold,"  called 
back  Chet.  "  Wish  we  had  a  hatchet,  but  old  Dan's 
got  it  with  him." 

Chet  pulled  out  his  stockman's  knife  and  opened  its 
big  blade. 

"  Look  out  you  don't  slip,  yourself,"  warned  Phil, 
anxiously,  to  him  as  he  crouched  and  chipped.  "  Want 
me  to  help?" 

"  No,  suh !  You  stay  there  and  rope  me  if  I  get 
stampeded,"  ordered  Chet,  half  jokingly,  half  grimly. 

Phil  accepted  the  suggestion. 

"  I  shore  will,"  he  agreed ;  and  going  to  Pepper  he 
took  his  rope  from  the  saddle.  Re-coiling  it,  he 
squatted,  watching  his  partner  at  work.  The  animals 
fell  to  cropping  in  the  little  area  here  between  the  snow 
patch  and  the  commencement  of  the  canon  trail. 

What  happened,  of  excitement,  happened  very 
quickly.  Whether  Chet  stumbled  first,  or  slipped  first, 
was  not  argued;  but  his  worn  high  heels  were  illy 
suited  for  mountaineering,  particularly  on  a  glacier. 
Phil  saw  the  misstep — he  saw  Chet  pitch  and  grab, 
with  exclamation ;  and  he  called,  sharply,  but  in  vain : 

"  Look  out,  Chet!    You'll " 

But  Chet  already  had !  The  edge  of  the  slight  trail 
crumbled  under  him,  and  sprawling  and  clutching  he 


A    CLOSE    SHAVE    FOR    CHET 


73 


had  started  down  the  smoothish,  glary  slope.  Phil's 
eye,  hand,  and  mind  worked  together — and  so  fast  that 
he  scarcely  knew  how  they  did  it.  He  sprang  to  his 
feet,  and  flipped  his  noose — casting  it  from  the  ground, 
as  he  had  learned  to  cast,  without  preliminary  whirl- 
ing, for  calf  or  post. 

"  There !  "  he  cried  hopefully  to  Chet. 

It  was  a  beautiful  throw.  The  noose  sped,  opened, 
and  fell  true  just  in  Chet's  course.  His  feet  actually 
entered  it,  and  if  he  had  not  flung  up  an  arm  and 
grabbed,  he  might  have  gone  right  through  it.  Phil 
involuntarily  braced  himself,  cow-puncher  fashion, 
turning  his  side,  with  rope  against  his  hip,  heels  dug  in. 
The  rope  tautened,  the  noose  tightened ;  Phil's  heels  bit 
deeper  into  the  dirt,  but  he  stayed  firm;  and  Chet 
stopped  where  he  was.  His  knife  went  sliding  on, 
faster  and  faster,  with  skip  and  whirl,  down  to  the 
far  bottom. 

Chet  was  pale  as  he  looked  up  and  grinned. 

"  Good  throw,"  he  praised.  "  If  you  hadn't  stopped 
me  I'd  have  been  going  yet.  Can  you  haul  me  up?  " 

"Guess  so,"  grunted   Phil. 

"  Go  ahead.  You're  cutting  me  in  two,  but  I  don't 
mind.  It's  better  than  being  ground  and  hashed." 

Phil  tugged,  but  his  footing  was  bad — and  Chet 
weighed  more  than  he  did. 

"  Wait,"  he  panted.  "  Don't  move ;  be  as  easy  as 
you  can."  He  reached  with  one  hand  and  caught 
Pepper's  trailing  lines.  It  was  fortunate  that  either 
Pepper  or  Medicine  Eye  was  near.  "  Come  here,"  he 
bade,  tugging.  He  swung  Pepper  about. 


74  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  That's  right.  Take  yore  dallies,"  approved  Chet, 
below. 

Phil  made  a  half  hitch  with  the  lash  end  of  the  rope 
about  the  saddle-horn.  At  the  sensation  of  the  drag- 
ging rope  Pepper,  trained  cow-horse,  obediently  set 
himself,  keeping  the  rope  stretched.  Thus  having  an- 
chored Chet,  Phil  climbed  aboard  and  breathed  easier. 
Leaning  slightly  to  the  right,  with  the  rope  running 
across  his  left  thigh,  he  pointed  Pepper  up  the  hill,  and 
steadily,  at  a  walk,  they  hauled  Chet  (who  kept  himself 
head  up  by  a  grasp  on  the  rope)  into  the  trail. 

"Whoa'p!"  he  called.  "That's  enough,  I'm  all 
right."  He  loosened  the  noose  and  wriggled  out  of  it. 
"Whew!"  he  gasped,  with  a  glance  down  at  the 
glacier  slope.  "  I'd  have  landed  hard.  Much  obliged. 
That  shore  was  a  good  throw.  You're  a  boss 
roper." 

"  Oh,  it  was  just  accident,"  stammered  Phil,  sheep- 
ishly. "  But,"  he  added,  "  I'm  mighty  glad." 

"  So  am  I,"  confessed  Chet.  "  I  lost  my  knife. 
Lend  me  yours,  will  you?  " 

"Why— yes,"  and  Phil  felt  in  his  pocket  for  it. 
"Why?" 

"  Want  to  cut  the  rest  of  the  trail." 

"Aw,  look  here—"  objected  Phil.  "I'll  do  it. 
You've  had  your  dose." 

"No,  sir;  I'm  going  to  finish  it,"  declared  Chet, 
doggedly.  "  I've  fooled  the  hoodoo  now,  and  I'm 
safe." 

"  Better  let  me,"  hinted  Phil. 

But  Chet  shook  his  head,  and  reached  for  the  knife. 


'IT    WAS    A    BEAUTIFUL    THROW." 


A   CLOSE    SHAVE   FOR   CHET         75 

Phil  gave  it  to  him.  He  knew  that  Chet  meant  what  he 
said,  and  he  admired  his  nerve.  So  he  only  remarked : 

"  All  right.  But  let  me  keep  a  rope  on  you.  I'm 
liable  not  to  make  a  throw  like  that,  again." 

"  Snub  me  if  you  want  to,"  answered  Chet.  "  But 
I'm  not  afraid." 

He  suffered  Phil  to  knot  the  rope  about  his  waist; 
and  proceeded  boldly  on  out.  The  sun  had  sunk  per- 
ceptibly, even  in  the  brief  interval,  and  Chet  now 
worked  hard,  although  cautious  of  his  footing.  As 
Chet  advanced,  Phil  paid  out  the  rope,  keeping  the 
lash  end  fast  to  the  saddle-horn.  Soon  he  must  unite 
his  rope  to  Chefs  rope,  from  Medicine  Eye.  And  he 
breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when  finally  without  accident 
his  plucky  partner  reached  the  farther  verge  of  the 
snow  slope. 

"  All  right  now,"  proclaimed  Chet,  returning  with 
more  careless  tread.  "  I'll  lead  the  old  mule  over,  and 
the  rest  of  them  will  follow.  Horses  will  always  follow 
a  mule.  You  can  drive  them,  too." 

Betty  the  dun  mule  paused,  ere  venturing  upon  the 
glacier  trail,  and  dropping  her  head,  with  her  long  ears 
erect,  sniffed  at  the  path.  But  at  the  tug  of  Chet  on  the 
lead-rope  she  gingerly  stepped  forward,  testing.  The 
icy  particles  crunched  under  her  hoofs,  giving  her  a 
foothold.  And  still  dubious  and  slow,  but  nevertheless 
with  more  confidence,  she  proceeded.  Cotton-tail,  de- 
clining to  be  left,  with  a  little  whinny  next  took  the 
trail,  joining  Chet  and  Betty  at  the  other  end.  Round- 
ing up  Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye,  Phil  forced  them 
into  the  same  trail,  and  drove  them  ahead  of  him,  that 


76  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

he  might  be  out  of  their  way  should  they  slip.  And 
trudging  behind,  he  also  joined  Chet. 

Chet  was  rather  hurriedly  gathering  the  remainder 
of  the  packs,  and  assorting  the  lot,  preparatory  to 
slinging  it  upon  the  animals. 

"  Don't  know  exactly  how  to  tie  this  stuff  on,"  he 
muttered;  "  but  on  it  goes,  just  the  same.  We  ought 
to  get  a  move,  too,  or  the  trail  will  be  plumb  dark." 

The  two  boys  worked  hard.  But  the  job  was  diffi- 
cult for  them.  The  packs  when  made  up  were  singu- 
larly many-cornered  and  slippery,  and  insisted  upon 
projecting  more  than  the  law  of  the  canon  trail  would 
allow.  Meanwhile  the  glacier  trail  grew  more  faint, 
in  the  glamorous  twilight ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  per- 
spiring, and  the  tugging  with  fingers  that  were  numb 
with  the  keen  air,  Chet  vented  a  fresh  cry  of  dismay. 
The  sunshine  had  faded  from  the  canon  trail,  and  a 
line  of  shadow  was  swiftly  climbing  the  canon  wall 
above  it.  But  Phil  exclaimed  with  relief. 

"  There's  comes  Dan !  "  he  announced. 

Grizzly  Dan  it  was,  riding  toward  them,  his  spotted 
pony  a  welcome  figure  outlined  against  the  rock-face. 
He  came  on  at  a  fearless  trot,  which  spelled  aid.  The 
sight  of  him  was  good. 

He  halted  at  the  edge  of  the  glacier,  and  hallooed 
across : 

"  What's  the  matter?    Anything  wrong?  " 

They  paused  to  reply. 

;<  We  had  to  cut  the  trail  over  again,  and  now  the 
packs  won't  stay." 

"  I'll  be  thar,"  volunteered  the  old  trapper. 


A    CLOSE    SHAVE    FOR    CHET          77 

As  customary  with  him  he  did  not  dismount,  but 
rode  his  pony  along  the  crunching  path.  His  nose 
bore  a  fresh  scratch,  and  his  buckskin  pantaloons  were 
rent  at  one  knee;  otherwise  he  appeared  uninjured. 
As  for  the  spotted  pony,  it  exhibited  both  knees  some- 
what torn,  and  it  moved  rather  stiffly. 

"  Hyar — I'll  show  ye,"  proffered  Grizzly  Dan,  at 
once  dismounting.  "  Must  get  them  packs  right,  in 
a  hurry,  'less  you  want  to  stay  hyar  all  night." 

With  marvelous  precision  of  touch  he  readjusted  the 
ropes  and  parcels,  tightening  and  aligning,  while  the 
boys  tried  to  help. 

"  Did  you  get  the  bear?  "  queried  Phil. 

"  Thar's  no  time  to  talk,  now,"  answered  old  Dan. 
"  Trail's  gettin'  dark.  Fust  thing  we  know  we'll 
have  to  camp  right  hyar  an'  eat  our  moccasins  an' 
shiver  ourselves  warm  till  mornin'.  An'  thar's  moun- 
tain mutton  an'  a  bed  waitin'  for  us  at  t'other  end. 
Wagh!" 

He  mounted,  leading  off  across  the  glacier,  which 
glimmered  cold  and  eerie  in  the  half  light.  The  dun 
mule  followed,  Cotton-tail  fell  in  behind,  and  as  before, 
Phil,  preceded  by  Chet,  brought  up  the  rear. 

Now  the  canon  trail  was  cloaked  in  dusk;  only  the 
very  tips  of  the  wall  and  of  the  mountains  about  were 
touched  with  the  shine  reflected  up  from  the  west  be- 
yond the  ranges.  If  the  trail  had  been  perilous  by 
daylight,  it  was  thrice  perilous  now,  by  the  uncer- 
tain dusk.  However,  where  old  Dan  went,  others 
could  go. 

"  Mountain  mutton  an'  warm  bed,"  he  encouraged, 


78  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

back  over  his  shoulder.  "  Campin'  hyar  till  mornin* 
don't  shine  with  this  coon." 

"  Not  with  us,  either,"  declared  Chet. 

Under  the  hoofs  of  the  little  train  the  crisp  bits  of 
snow  and  ice  crunched  keenly.  A  great  stillness  had 
settled  over  the  heights  and  over  the  valleys;  already 
in  the  sky  had  the  first  star  appeared ;  the  air  was  chill 
and  penetrating;  and  the  stillness,  and  the  star,  and 
the  chill,  and  the  long,  whitish  slope  of  the  snow, 
made  the  scene  very  lonesome.  Phil  was  heartily 
glad  that  they  were  not  to  camp  here,  supperless  and 
bedless. 

In  safety  they  retraversed  the  glacier ;  and  rounding 
the  elbow  they  entered  upon  the  canon  trail  itself. 
Below  lay  the  gulch,  scarcely  distinguishable  in  the 
gathering  dark :  lay  as  a  great  mysterious  void  with- 
out bottom.  The  trail  itself  could  be  made  out,  before ; 
but  as  they  pressed  on,  old  Dan  leading  boldly  at  a 
fast  walk  which  verged  upon  a  trot,  Phil  noted  that 
even  the  trail  was  growing  indistinct.  But  ever  and 
anon  the  vista  ahead  disclosed  the  landmark  of  Red 
Chief  Mountain,  upon  whose  crimson  tip,  standing 
forth  like  a  beacon,  the  last  beams  of  the  sun  still 
lingered. 

Not  a  word  was  said ;  and  Phil  merely  heaved  a  sigh 
of  relief  and  of  gratification  when  unexpectedly  to 
him  the  trail  of  the  train  emerged  into  the  shallow 
valley  which  formed  the  terminus  of  the  canon  route ; 
and  beside  the  glimmer  of  the  top  packs,  where  he  and 
Chet  had  hastily  deposited  them,  old  Dan  had  halted. 

"  Thar ! "  grunted  the  old  trapper,  off  his  pony. 


A    CLOSE    SHAVE    FOR    CHET          79 

"  Hyar's  meat,  wood,  an'  water,  an'  that  makes  camp. 
Let's  off  with  those  packs;  then  you  boys  picket  out 
the  stock  an'  I'll  be  puttin'  the  pot  on  the  fire.  Now 
you're  in  Lost  Park,  an'  you  can  be  white  Injuns 
as  long  as  you  like.  Nobody's  liable  to  bother  ye." 

Camp  was  made  right  speedily.  The  saddle  animals 
and  pack  animals  were  stripped;  and  while  the  two 
boys  led  them  away  to  grass,  old  Dan's  ax  rang  upon 
a  pine  stump.  When  they  returned  the  fire  was  flicker- 
ing, the  kettle  was  suspended  over,  and  Dan  was  busy 
with  his  knife  at  a  dun  carcass. 

"  Got  a  sheep,  did  you  ?    Good !  "  exclaimed  Phil. 

"  Hyar's  fat  meat,  an'  teeth  to  chaw  it,"  answered 
the  mountain  man.  "  Yep,  the  goat  war  waitin'  for 
me,  an'  so  war  the  hos." 

"How  about  the  bear?" 

"  He  war  not  waitin'." 

"  He  wasn't  Old  Four-Toes,  was  he?  " 

"  He  ?  No.  He  war  a  she,  anyhow,  an'  she  war 
a  cub  beside  o'  Four-Toes.  When  I  show  you  a  Four- 
Toes'  track,  then  you'll  not  be  mistakin'  t'other  for  him. 
But  out  with  yore  Green  Rivers,  an'  help  me  butcher. 
Know  what  Green  River  is  ?  " 

'  Yes.  It's  up  in  Wyoming  and  flows  down  into 
Colorado,"  replied  Chet,  promptly. 

"  It  does,  an'  it  war  prime  beaver  country,  too.  But 
a  Green  River  air  a  knife,  too ;  it  war  what  we  called 
our  scalpin'  knives,  'cause  they  war  stamped  '  G.  R.' 
up  next  the  hilt.  Now  hyar,  you  be  a  slicin'  some  o' 
this  shoulder,  an'  I'll  be  unj'intin'  him  for  the  pot. 
No,  not  that  way,  boy!  Do  'ee  want  to  spile  good 


80  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

meat?  Whar  war  you  brought  up?  Slice  him  with 
the  grain  an'  not  acrost  it,  so  yore  juices  won't  run 
out!" 

'  Yep,"  continued  old  Dan,  as  they  worked ;  "  when 
we  reached  the  bottom,  Sally  an'  me,  we  found  the 
paint  hos  waitin',  an'  one  sheep  carcass,  but  the  b'ar 
had  left  an'  carried  off  t'other  sheep  carcass  with 
her.  It  bein'  dark,  an'  I  bein'  a  leetle  anxious  over 
you  two  lads,  I  didn't  foller  Mrs.  B'ar  to  get  back  my 
t'other  sheep,  but  I  jest  loaded  Paint  an'  made  tracks 
out  o'  thar.  We'll  camp  hyar  to-night,  an'  to-morrer 
we  go  on  to  Red  Chief  an'  camp  thar'  for  a  day  or 
two,  to  let  my  old  paint  hos  rest  a  bit.  He's  not  feel- 
in'  very  pert  after  his  fall." 

'  Then  the  other  sheep  was  killed,  too,  was  it  ?  " 

"  Sartin."  Old  Dan  seemed  surprised  at  the  ques- 
tion. "  Sally  took  'em  both  with  one  pill.  She  never 
wastes  powder  an'  lead,  Sally  doesn't,  an'  she  had  to 
cl'ar  the  trail.  Now,  we  won't  wait  for  the  pot  to 
bile;  we're  too  wolfish  for  that.  The  pot'll  do  for 
mornin'.  We'll  roast  our  meat  by  holdin'  it  in  the 
blaze,  an'  we'll  chaw  it  that  way,  while  Injun  fashion, 
I  got  Sally's  ramrod,  but  you  boys  can  cut  sticks." 

Imitating  old  Dan,  they  squatted  by  the  fire,  toast- 
ing their  slices  of  meat,  spitted  on  sticks.  So  hungry 
were  the  two  boys,  that  they  ate  the  first  slices  when 
these  were  barely  heated  through !  Phil  had  about  de- 
cided to  overhaul  the  packs  and  find  some  salt,  when 
the  grizzled  trapper  read  his  mind. 

"  Salt  it  if  you  want  to,"  observed  old  Dan,  "  but 
for  me  it  spiles  the  flavor,  an'  it  ain't  white  Injun  way, 


A    CLOSE    SHAVE    FOR   CHET         81 

either.  We  used  to  go  year  after  year  an*  not  taste 
salt  more'n  once  in  the  twelve-month.  Injuns  an' 
trappers  never  used  salt;  an'  onct  you've  grown  to  eat 
meat  without  salt,  you'll  like  it  better.  Salt  ain't 
natural,  anyhow." 

Hunger  was  sufficient  salt.  The  mutton  was  good 
without  it.  Dan's  method  of  slicing  it  with  the  grain 
instead  of  across  did  keep  in  the  juice,  and  was  a  great 
scheme.  Phil  ate  five  big  flaps ;  Chet  ate  either  five  or 
six;  and  Old  Dan  must  have  devoured  eight  or  nine, 
before,  with  a  grunt  of  contentment,  he  wiped  his  knife 
upon  his  buckskin  breeches  and  tucked  it  into  its 
sheath.  The  pot  was  bubbling,  and  from  it  escaped  the 
rich  steam  of  more  mutton.  A  shoulder  and  a  ham 
were  boiling  away,  for  the  morrow.  Near  by  Bonita 
was  licking  her  chops;  and  farther  away,  out  in  the 
grass,  the  horses  and  Betty  the  mule  could  be  heard 
munching  busily.  'Twas  a  rude  camp,  but  a  camp  of 
plenty  and  contentment. 

Overhead  the  sky  was  black  velvet  studded  with 
brightly  sparkling  stars.  The  camp-fire  blaze  made  a 
circle  of  red  light,  forcing  back  the  darkness  and  the 
chill.  The  stream  rippled,  and  in  the  willows  across 
something  rustled.  Bonita  growled  fiercely,  and  a 
horse  snorted. 

"  May  be  she  b'ar  nosin'  about,"  remarked  old 
Dan,  composedly,  knocking  the  ashes  from  his  short 
pipe.  "  But  she  air  full  o'  mutton,  like  us.  She's  takin' 
her  cubs  out  for  a  leetle  airin',  I  reckon,  an'  teachin'  'em 
man  smell.  I'll  go  an'  see  how  the  critters  air  doin', 
an'  you  be  spreadin'  the  beds.  Then  we'll  turn  in." 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  MAGIC  LAKES 

"  FAT  meat  in  camp  an'  no  hostiles  about,"  had 
murmured  old  Dan,  as  he  composed  himself  under  his 
Navajo  and  tarpaulin.  By  this  he  had  indicated  peace 
of  mind.  However,  it  was  the  most  lonely  camp  that 
Phil,  despite  his  experience  on  ranch  and  range,  had 
yet  occupied.  On  the  one  hand  was  the  deep  gorge, 
skirted  by  the  perilous  trail;  on  the  other  hand  were 
the  mysterious  recesses  of  Lost  Park,  overlooked  by 
the  weird  Red  Chief  peak.  A  bear  had  rustled  in  the 
brush ;  the  camp  had  supped  white  Injun  fashion ;  and 
the  animals  had  been  turned  out,  unhobbled  and  un- 
tethered  because  they  had  no  place  whither  to  stray 
if  they  would.  Now  another  rustle  sounded,  in  the 
willows;  and  from  afar  drifted  a  strange,  moan- 
ing cry — perhaps  of  owl,  perhaps  of  four-footed 
beast. 

Chet  snored,  roundly  snored.  Phil,  in  fancy  re- 
traveling  the  canon  trail,  and  heartily  glad  when  he 
reached  the  end,  joined  him — wakening  once,  as  the 
night  before,  to  see  old  Dan,  blanket-shrouded,  squat- 
ting by  the  fire  and  toasting  more  meat!  Old  Dan 
was  not  alone.  Betty,  the  wise  dun  mule,  had  drawn 
close  and  was  standing,  with  ears  drooped  and  eyes 
closed,  blissfully  dozing  by  the  warmth !  She  and  the 

82 


THE    MAGIC   LAKES  83 

eld  trapper  her  master  made  a  picture.  Then  Phil 
fell  asleep  again. 

Mindful  of  their  duties  as  horse  guard,  the  boys 
were  astir  early,  without  waiting  to  be  roused.  In 
fact,  Dan  himself  was  under  his  tarp  when  they  rolled 
out.  But  when  they  returned  from  rounding  up  the 
horses  and  Betty,  and  picketing  them  for  ready  use, 
the  old  trapper  had  mended  the  fire,  and  the  kettle  and 
coffee-pot  were  steaming. 

"  Thar  you  air,"  quoth  Grizzly  Dan,  greeting  them. 
'  Thar's  fresh  sign  for  ye ;  but  we're  on  our  way  to 
rendezvous  an'  we  won't  stop  to  set  traps."  And  he 
chuckled. 

He  had  indicated  a  stick,  willow  or  aspen,  about  a 
foot  long,  from  which  the  bark  had  been  peeled.  The 
wood  bore  the  mark  of  teeth,  as  if  gnawed  or  scraped 
by  a  large  rat,  and  the  ends  had  been  chipped. 

"  Beaver,"  said  Chet. 

"  Yep — an'  fresh  sign  at  that.  It  war  floatin'  down 
to  me,  when  I  war  at  the  creek.  Thar's  beaver  above, 
an*  thar's  beaver  right  in  these  hyar  willows,  too,  or 
I'm  mistook.  But  'tain't  beaver  time  with  us." 

"It's  late  for  beaver,  anyway,  isn't  it?"  queried 
Phil. 

"  Nope.  I've  cotched  prime  beaver,  Number  One, 
as  late  as  June,  whar  the  weather  keeps  cold.  Beaver 
season  air  two:  in  the  Fall,  from  September  till  the 
streams  freeze;  an'  in  the  spring,  from  the  time  the 
streams  open  till  into  May.  'Long  about  June  the 
trappers  lifted  their  caches,  whar  they'd  cached  their 
pelts,  an*  took  the  trail  for  rendezvous,  whar  every- 


84  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

body  gathered  to  meet  the  traders  an5  trade  in  their 
pelts  for  another  year's  supplies.  Yes,  an'  spend  all 
their  wages  in  advance,  on  whisky  an'  cards  an'  gam- 
blin'.  Wagh!  We  went  to  rendezvous  pore  already, 
an'  we  left  it  porer  still.  But  eat,  eat;  fill  yore  meat- 
bags,  so's  we  can  start." 

The  sun  was  not  yet  shining  into  the  valley,  al- 
though his  first  rays  were  gilding  the  many  peaks 
round  about.  Against  the  pink  sky  glowed  Red  Chief, 
his  hither  face  purplish,  but  his  farther  face  irradiat- 
ing a  halo.  By  the  time  the  breakfast  contents  of  the 
pot  had  been  thoroughly  sampled  and  more  than 
sampled  (and  never  did  meat  taste  better,  after  sim- 
mering so  long),  the  few  dishes  washed,  and  the  ani- 
mals packed  and  saddled,  the  valley  was  bathed  in  the 
day's  warmth. 

"  Beaver  sign  an*  b'ar  sign,"  repeated  Grizzly  Dan, 
as  they  mounted.  "  That  old  she  cinnamon  an'  her 
cubs  war  prospectin'  round  in  the  willows  last  night, 
jest  as  I  told  ye.  I  found  their  tracks  thar,  this  morn- 
in'."  Dan  seemed  to  have  been  everywhere,  in  the 
short  interval.  "  But  we  can't  get  beaver  an'  we  don't 
need  b'ar.  So  ketch  up,  ketch  up,  for  market." 

He  led  off ;  and  with  Chet  next,  and  Phil  closing  the 
rear,  as  usual,  the  cavalcade  again  took  the  trail.  The 
spotted  pony  was  stiff,  and  moved  grudgingly,  at  first ; 
but  at  steady  pace  they  all  filed  away  for  the  next  camp, 
beside  Red  Chief. 

There  was  now  no  trail,  but  Grizzly  Dan  rode  con- 
fidently, piloting  through  the  pines  and  spruces  which 
cloaked  the  flank  of  the  valley.  The  sun  rose  higher, 


THE    MAGIC    LAKES  85 

streaming  in  among  the  trees  and  low  brush.  Here 
foot  of  man  or  of  horse  apparently  never  had  pressed, 
and  to  Phil  it  seemed  that  they  must  be  traversing  a 
real  wilderness.  He  was  too  interested  to  talk,  and  so, 
evidently,  was  Chet.  They  rode  all  in  silence,  save  for 
the  sounds  made  by  the  passage  of  the  animals,  and 
the  ripple  of  the  stream,  always  within  striking  dis- 
tance. Then,  after  about  two  hours'  travel,  rounding 
over  a  slight  swell,  suddenly  they  were  full  in  sight 
of  Red  Chief. 

There  he  up-lifted,  the  noble  peak,  right  at  the  end 
of  the  valley,  a  mile  before.  He  was  bare,  like  any 
Indian,  from  foot  to  head ;  his  lower  portion  was  dull 
maroon,  but  his  body  was  streaked  with  paint,  and  his 
face  and  scalp  were  covered  with  vermilion.  A  chief 
indeed  was  he,  here  alone  and  remote  ruling  over  the 
country  yet  free  of  the  white  man. 

Chet  exclaimed  at  the  sight;  exclaimed  Phil;  but 
Grizzly  Dan,  reining  in  briefly,  made  no  sound,  only 
he  raised  his  arm  and  shook  his  rifle  as  if  in  salute. 

"  Thar's  the  chief,"  he  said,  as  the  two  boys  ap- 
proached him.  "  I  gave  him  the  peace  signal — but  I 
reckon  he  hasn't  anybody  to  answer  for  him.  But  he 
knows.  See  those  two  lakes  at  his  feet — one  yaller, 
one  blue?" 

"  N— no,  I  don't,"  admitted  Chet,  squinting.  "  Do 
you,  Phil?" 

"  No." 

"  I  don't,  either,"  chuckled  old  Dan.  "  But  they're 
thar,  an'  that's  whar  we  camp.  They  war  thar  last 
year,  an'  they  war  thar  in  Forty-eight,  when  I  fust 


86  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

saw  them;  an'  they'll  be  thar,  same  as  the  mountain, 
till  somebody  drains  'em  off  to  water  with." 

Mammoth  Red  Chief  loomed  larger  and  larger,  as 
now  they  rode  straight  for  him,  through  the  basin 
which  formed  his  footstool.  Presently,  from  a  little 
rise,  was  sighted  a  gleam  of  water,  which  must  be 
one  of  the  lakes.  The  spotted  pony  and  Betty  the  dun 
mule  quickened  their  pace,  as  if  they  had  been  here  be- 
fore and  were  glad  to  be  here  again;  they  knew  that 
camp  was  at  hand.  And  at  a  trot  the  little  cavalcade 
descended  the  rise,  crossed  the  last  bit  of  country,  and 
making  straight  for  the  water,  upon  the  edge  of  it 
suddenly  were  arrived  in  camp.  Grizzly  Dan  alertly 
halted,  and  again  raised  high  his  long  rifle,  in  salute  to 
the  mountain  towering  vast,  directly  across. 

"  How  ?  "  he  quoth ;  and  he  dismounted.  "  Hyar  we 
air,"  he  announced.  "  Wait,  you  boys.  Would  you 
spile  our  chances?  This  is  Red  Chief  country,  whar 
live  Old  Four-Toes  an'  the  black  wolves,  an'  a  heap  o' 
other  medicine  folk.  Wait,  I  say."  He  pulled  his 
ancient  black  pipe,  stuffed  it,  and  sitting  cross-legged 
lighted  it.  Thus  he  sat,  for  five  minutes,  solemnly 
puffing,  and  making  strange  motions  with  stem  and 
bowl,  and  muttering  in  words  which  might  have  been 
Indian.  "  Thar,"  he  spoke,  rising,  and  shaking  the 
ashes  from  his  pipe.  "  Now  go  ahead.  Off  packs  an' 
saddles,  turn  out  the  animiles,  an'  make  camp.  Wagh, 
but  I'm  wolfish.  Thar's  meat  in  the  pot,  an'  thar's 
more  in  the  lakes  an'  in  the  hills." 

The  ride  had  ended  at  a  little  patch  of  cedars  and 
grass  close  to  the  water.  By  evidence  of  charred  wood, 


THE    MAGIC   LAKES  87 

other  camps  had  preceded  this  one — and  probably  they 
were  camps  of  which  Grizzly  Dan  knew.  It  did  not 
take  long  to  strip  the  animals  and  turn  them  loose  to 
roll  and  graze;  and  whither  the  dun  mule  led,  they  all 
followed  like  sheep.  Old  Dan  had  gathered  a  small 
quantity  of  cedar  chips  and  a  bunch  of  dried  grass; 
and  squatting  over,  with  his  knife  blade  he  dropped  a 
shower  of  sparks  from  a  piece  of  flint  into  the  grass 
bunch.  He  blew,  and  blew,  and  fanned  with  his  hat ; 
and  the  smoke  burst  forth.  The  fire  was  started  as 
quickly  as  if  matches  had  been  used. 

Lifting  his  head,  he  saw  that  Phil  had  been  watching 
curiously. 

"  That's  right :  watch  an'  you'll  1'arn,"  he  remarked. 
"  Matches  air  man-made,  but  I  can  pick  up  a  flint  al- 
most anywhar.  White  Injuns  have  got  to  be  independ- 
ent. That's  why  I  stick  to  old  Sally,  hyar.  Yore  new- 
fangled breech-loader  guns  air  mean  shooters,  an'  they 
shoot  often ;  but  when  you're  out  o'  ca'tridges  or  caps, 
whar  air  ye?  With  my  old  flintlock,  as  long  as  I  have 
powder  an'  lead  loose  about  my  possibles,  I  kin  pick 
up  a  pebble  for  the  spark,  an'  thar  I  be.  But  while  pot's 
bilin'  you  boys  might  as  well  be  ketchin'  a  few  fish 
outer  those  thar  lakes.  Take  yore  ch'ice — yaller  or 
blue.  Got  any  tackle?" 

"  I  have,"  said  Phil.    "  Are  there  trout  here?  " 

"  Sartin.  Trout  or  somethin'  else.  All  you  need  is 
a  forked  bone  an*  a  piece  o'  string,  an'  a  red  rag  for 
bait." 

This  sounded  promising.  Phil  hastily  overhauled 
his  canvas  "  war-bag,"  or  sack  of  "  possibles,"  and  ex- 


88  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

tracted  some  line  and  a  couple  of  hooks.  He  divided 
with  Chet. 

"  You  go  one  way  and  I'll  go  the  other,"  he  directed ; 
so  with  the  hand-tackle  and  some  of  the  boiled  sheep 
for  bait,  they  separated. 

The  water  of  the  lake  whereon  the  halt  had  been 
made  was  indeed  an  intense  blue.  But  Phil  had  skirted 
the  shore  only  a  short  distance,  looking  for  a  likely  hole 
wherein  to  cast,  when  upon  passing  a  little  point  sud- 
denly he  was  astonished  to  see  that  the  water  was 
yellow!  He  recalled  the  words  of  old  Dan — which 
he  had  accepted  as  perhaps  a  joke. 

Now  he  investigated,  and  he  discovered  a  wonderful 
thing.  The  point  did  not  end  in  the  water,  but  con- 
tinued on  out,  and  formed  a  low,  narrow  wall,  or  cause- 
way, dividing  the  water  through  the  middle.  It  was  a 
rock  causeway,  about  two  feet  wide;  and  walking  out 
upon  it  as  upon  a  dam,  he  saw  that  on  the  right  the 
water  was  yellow,  and  upon  the  left  it  was  blue.  Yes, 
here  were  two  lakes,  separated  only  by  the  low  wall : 
and  the  water  of  the  one  was  a  perfect  azure,  as  if 
tinged  deeply  with  blueing ;  the  water  of  the  other  was 
clear  amber,  as  if  dyed  by  pine  needles.  And  both  lakes 
drained  apparently  from  the  same  territory.  Across, 
rose  the  mighty  form  of  the  painted  Red  Chief.  No 
wonder  that  trapper  Dan  had  "  made  medicine  "  before 
such  enchantment. 

The  causeway  (it  was  a  dike,  thrown  up  by  some 
ancient  volcanic  action)  crossed  through  the  deep 
water;  and  peering  down  into  the  transparent  depths 
Phil  witnessed  the  shadowy  forms  of  great  fish.  He 


THE    MAGIC    LAKES  89 

dropped  in  his  baited  hook — and  it  was  grabbed  so 
quickly,  by  a  darting  form,  that  he  almost  was  jerked 
overboard,  so  to  speak.  There  was  no  place,  on  the 
narrow  ridge,  to  land  the  fish  and  he  towed  it  along  to 
the  shore. 

It  proved  to  be  a  fish  weighing  at  least  four  pounds 
— a  round-bodied  fellow,  mottled  gray  on  the  back, 
yellow  on  the  belly,  and  provided  in  its  capacious  mouth 
with  a  myriad  needle  teeth.  Phil  had  quite  a  time  ex- 
tracting the  hook.  He  left  the  fish  tethered  to  a  bush, 
at  the  shore,  and  returned  to  try  again. 

This  first  fish  had  been  taken  from  the  blue  water. 
But  the  yellow  water  responded  as  quickly,  with  a  fish 
even  heavier  than  the  first,  but  totally  different.  The 
first  had  resembled  a  species  of  pike.  This  second 
resembled  more  a  species  of  bass,  being  flatter,  and 
wider;  and  it  was  differently  marked.  It  was  striped 
in  wavy  black  lines,  like  a  perch,  and  its  belly  was 
bluish  instead  of  yellow.  Now,  that  was  odd :  in  the 
waters  of  the  yellow  lake  the  fish  were  bluish,  and  in 
the  waters  of  the  blue  lake  the  fish  were  yellowish ! 

As  these  two  big  fish  would  be  enough  for  a  meal, 
and  as  it  would  be  easy,  no  doubt,  to  catch  others,  Phil 
strung  his  prey  together  and  lugged  them  off  for  camp. 
He  was  "  wolfish  "  himself,  and  he  began  to  appreciate 
how  it  was  that  Grizzly  Dan  could  eat  so  much  and  so 
often ! 

He  arrived  about  at  the  same  moment  with  Chet, 
who  was  empty-handed  but  visibly  excited. 

"  Oh,  jiminy!  Look  at  the  fish!  "  ejaculated  Chet. 
"What  are  they?" 


90  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Don't  know." 

"  One  out  o'  the  blue  water,  one  out  o'  the  yaller, 
eh?  "  observed  Grizzly  Dan.  "  That's  the  way." 

"  Didn't  you  get  any,  Chet  ?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  I  didn't  fish.  But  I  saw  some  big  old  bear  tracks. 
They  looked  like  Old  Four-Toes!  Long  as  my  arm 
and  wide  as  my  hat !  " 

"  Wharabouts,  boy?  "  asked  Grizzly  Dan,  interested. 

"  Down  toward  the  other  end  of  this  lake." 

"It  mought  be  Old  Four-Toes,"  granted  Grizzly 
Dan.  "  Or  it  mought  be  that  she  cinnamon.  Any  cub 
tracks?" 

"  Didn't  see  any." 

"  We'll  go  an'  take  another  look,"  said  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  Leave  the  pot  a-bilin  an'  hang  up  yore  fish." 

He  stood,  and  shouldering  his  long  rifle  Sally,  strode 
off;  grabbing,  Chet  his  rifle,  Phil  his  scarred  and 
trusty  carbine,  the  boys  followed. 

"  It  was  in  a  little  sandy  spot,  almost  at  the  other 
end,"  directed  Chet. 

"  I  know,"  answered  old  Dan.  "  Thar's  an  old 
log  thar  what  makes  good  fishin'  place  for  b'ar.  I 
know." 

And  know  he  did,  for  he  went  straight  to  the  very 
spot.  The  tracks  were  plain,  and  they  were  nearly  as 
large  as  Chet.  had  asserted.  They  were  immense — 
twelve  or  fourteen  inches  long  and  eight  wide !  Tracks 
like  the  print  from  the  foot  of  some  huge  naked  black 
man,  roaming  about. 

"  Whew!  "  muttered  Phil. 

"  That's  shore  a  big  bear,"  averred  Chet,  wisely. 


THE    MAGIC    LAKES  91 

Bonita,  smelling  the  tracks,  cowered  and  slunk  closer 
to  her  master. 

"  Four-Toes,  sartin,"  declared  Grizzly  Dan.  "  See 
the  sign?  Toe  missin'  on  the  left  hind  foot.  Four- 
Toes  it  air.  Wagh!  Now  I  hope  he  don't  get  mad 
'cause  we're  campin'  on  his  stampin'  ground.  Wah- 
pi-ho !  "  he  called.  "  No-ko-dag  u-u-tum-wah-pas.  We 
are  friends,  brother.  We  camp  here  to  rest  our  ponies, 
and  to  ketch  a  few  o'  yore  fish,  for  we  air  hungry. 
Give  us  a  little  grass,  an'  a  little  wood,  an'  a  little  meat, 
an'  we  will  move  on.  We  will  catch  a  few  fish  for  you, 
too,  brother,  an'  lay  them  by  this  log.  Ah,  yah-to-mo- 
kum  veheo-pas.  Thar,"  he  added,  lowering  his  voice, 
to  the  boys.  "  I  reckon  I  fixed  him.  One  o'  you 
jest  run  back  to  camp  an'  fetch  those  two  fish  an'  lay 
hyar." 

"  I  will,"  said  Chet,  much  impressed ;  and  away  he 
trudged. 

He  brought  back  the  two  fish,  and  leaving  them  upon 
the  sand,  by  the  log  (as  old  Dan  had  engaged  to  do), 
they  returned  to  the  camp. 

"  Yes,  sir,  that  war  Old  Four-Toes,  sartin," 
reiterated  Grizzly  Dan,  as  they  prepared  to  dine  from 
the  pot.  "  I  knowed  he  war  in  hyar." 

"  Do  you  think  he  heard  you?  "  queried  Phil,  with 
a  wink  at  Chet. 

"  Sartin  he  did.  Those  war  fresh  sign — the  edge 
whar  he'd  stepped  in  war  muddy  yet  an'  thar  war  drops 
spatted  on  the  log.  He  war  'round  close,  watchin'  to 
see  what  kind  o'  people  we  air.  Now  he  knows  we 
don't  mean  harm.  He  air  a  medicine  b'ar,  o'  course. 


92  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

To-day  he  may  be  hyar,  tomorrer  he  may  be  a  hun- 
dred miles  on  t'other  side." 

"  Then  he  won't  bother  us,  you  think?  " 

"  Not  if  we  don't  bother  him." 

"  I  shore'd  like  to  see  him,  but  I  shore'd  hate  to  meet 
him  if  he's  as  big  all  over  as  his  feet  are,"  said  Chet. 

"  Wall,"  observed  the  old  trapper,  composedly,  "  this 
air  peace  country ;  this  air  the  general  market,  whar  we 
come  for  meat,  not  scalps,  an'  whar  we  only  kill  to  eat. 
If  you  do  meet  up  with  Old  Four-Toes,  make  the  peace 
sign  an'  go  yore  way  an'  he'll  go  his." 

They  ate  dinner,  and  the  dishes  having  been  washed, 
Chet  seized  his  rifle. 

"  Come  on.  I'm  going  down  and  see  if  Old  Four- 
Toes  has  come  for  his  fish." 

"  Easy,  easy,"  warned  Grizzly  Dan,  lying  and  puff- 
ing at  his  pipe,  as  the  two  boys  strode  off.  "  If 
he  hasn't  come,  he  will.  He  don'  want  to  be  hur- 
ried." 

They  approached  the  place  of  the  log  cautiously ;  for 
if  the  great  bulk  of  the  bear  was  there,  they  preferred 
to  heed  old  Dan's  advice  and  be  "  easy."  Discretion 
was  the  better  part  of  valor,  in  case  of  an  animal  who 
could  make  such  a  track.  Besides,  Grizzly  Dan  claimed 
that  he  was  a  "  medicine  bear !  "  However,  as  they 
moved  slowly,  peering  ahead  over  the  scanty  brush  and 
between  the  cedar  tops,  the  coast  appeared  clear.  Only, 
as  they  at  last  emerged  upon  the  shore,  Phil  exclaimed  : 

"They're  gone!" 

They  were.  The  two  fish  which  had  been  kft  beside 
the  log  had  vanished. 


THE    MAGIC    LAKES  93 

"  No  bear  took  them,  though,"  asserted  Chet. 
"  Don't  see  any  more  tracks  of  him;  do  you?  " 

There  were  no  fresh  bear  tracks,  no  portentous  im- 
prints renewed  to  tell  of  a  return  visit  by  Old  Four- 
Toes.  But,  looking  closely,  the  boys  made  out  just  a 
few  scratchy  marks  which  they  thought  had  not  been 
there  before.  And  again  looking  closely,  they  dis- 
covered a  faint  impression  of  pads  as  if  a  child  had 
slightly  dented  the  sand  with  four  finger-tips  close  to- 
gether. 

That  was  all.  But  whatever  was  doubtful,  the  fish 
were  gone,  and  all  the  spying  and  ransacking  about  by 
the  boys  and  Bonita  failed  to  roust  out  the  thief. 

"  A  varmint;  likely  a  marten  or  a  fisher  or  a  mink," 
declared  Grizzly  Dan,  having  heard  the  report. 
"  Took  'em  both,  do  'ee  say?  Wall,  now,  Old  Four- 
Toes  he  won't  stand  for  anythin'  like  that.  But  he 
can't  lay  it  up  agin  us.  Next  fish  we  ketch,  we'll  ketch 
for  ourselves.  An'  if  I  war  you,  I'd  be  ketchin'  'em 
right  away,  'fore  they  all  know  about  it.  Thar  be  the 
chance  that  those  thar  two  fish,  'stead  o'  bein'  et,  got 
back  in  the  water  agin,  an'  pretty  quick  now  you  can't 
get  another  one,  to  save  ye." 

"  They  were  dead ;  they'd  been  cleaned,"  scoffed 
Chet. 

"  Yes,  I  know,  boy.  But  this  hyar  is  medicine 
country.  Did  you  ever  see  or  hear  of  a  blue  an'  yaller 
lake,  side  by  side,  fed  by  the  one  red  mountain,  an' 
containin'  two  different  kind  o'  fish,  before?  This  hyar 
is  medicine  country.  An'  it  air  a  question  in  my  mind 
•whether  some  varmint  did  steal  those  fish,  or  whether 


94  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

they  warn't  changed  into  a  varmint  themselves,  or  else 
put  back  into  the  water.  This  hos  has  seen  many  queer 
things  in  his  life,  an'  he  knows  Injuns  who  has  seen 
more.  But  go  ketch  some  fish  for  supper.  We  got  to 
fill  our  meat-bags.  That's  'lowable,  anywhar.  That's 
law." 

"  I'll  show  you  where,"  volunteered  Phil,  to  Chet. 
[(  There's  a  kind  of  dam,  where  I  caught  those  two 
big  ones."  But  although  he  and  Chet  both  fished,  cast- 
ing their  baits  down  amidst  the  fish  swimming  slowly 
about  along  the  causeway,  not  a  single  one  would  pay 
the  slightest  attention!  And  only  two  or  three  hours 
before,  they  had  fought  for  the  privilege  of  biting! 

"  That's  mighty  queer,"  said  Phil,  disappointed. 
"  You'd  almost  think  that  old  Dan  was  right,  and  that 
those  two  fish  had  got  back  in  and  told  the  others! 
Let's  cross  over  and  try  from  the  mountain  side." 

They  crossed;  and  separating,  skirted  north  and 
south — Phil  following  the  shore  of  the  blue  lake,  Chet 
following  the  shore  of  the  yellow  lake. 

Over  here  the  aspect  was  stranger  than  upon  the 
other  side ;  for  the  reddish  rocks  of  the  mountain  were 
reflected  in  the  indigo  blue  of  the  water,  causing  pur- 
plish shadows.  All  was  quiet,  as  if  indeed  this  were 
a  land  of  enchantment.  The  rasp  of  Chet's  progress 
died  away,  and  Phil  heard  only  his  own  noise  as  he 
scrambled  and  leaped,  making  his  way  from  point  to 
point.  At  places  the  shore  was  bordered  by  cliffs,  from 
whose  overhanging  brows  he  dropped  in  his  bait  and 
line;  and  again  he  threw  in  from  behind  detached 
boulders. 


THK    MAGIC    LAKES  95 

At  one  likely  place  he  ensconced  himself  to  fish  until 
he  had  at  least  a  nibble.  There  must  be  a  fish,  among 
the  hundreds,  who  had  not  heard  the  news  or  else  was 
imprudent.  This  open,  rocky  shore  was  not  bear 
country,  it  seemed  to  Phil;  and  he  somehow  did  not 
feel  afraid  of  Old  Four-Toes,  anyway,  who  was  a 
"  medicine  bear,"  and  had  no  need  of  attacking  boys. 
Besides,  Grizzly  Dan  had  told  him  that  they  were 
friends.  But  when  a  little  clatter  sounded,  among 
the  rocks  behind  him,  Phil's  heart  leaped  into  his  throat 
and  he  turned  his  head  with  a  jerk. 

He  was  just  in  time  to  glimpse  a  black  shape  darting 
around  a  corner;  it  was  not  a  large  black  shape,  so  it 
was  not  a  bear,  and  he  rushed  to  get  a  better  view  of  it. 
But  when  he,  too,  had  rounded  the  rock  corner,  the 
shape  was  nowhere  in  sight,  and  all  his  stretching  of 
neck  and  clambering  upon  view  points  near  at  hand 
failed  to  disclose  it. 

All  right ;  let  it  go,  then.  It  was  not  big  enough  to 
harm  him,  and  he  had  no  desire  to  harm  it.  Besides,  a 
more  important  matter  took  his  attention.  He  had 
hastily  left  his  line,  wound  upon  a  stick,  lying  upon  the 
rocks;  and  he  arrived  back  just  in  time  to  grab  the 
stick  as  it  was  floating  swiftly  away — towed  by  an 
invisible  power.  A  fish !  Yes,  another  four-pounder— 
the  blue  lake  kind,  round  bodied  with  yellow  belly. 
Hurrah! 

There  was  no  good  place  here  to  tether  the  fish ;  and 
having  killed  it  quickly  by  a  blow  upon  the  head,  Phil 
laid  it  carefully  in  a  shaded  crevice  by  the  shore,  while 
he  fished  more.  He  was  not  favored  with  even  another 


96  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

bite;  and  he  tried  a  little  further  on,  and  still  a  little 
further,  always  hoping  to  repeat  the  success.  But  not 
another  nibble  rewarded  him;  apparently  this  had  been 
the  only  foolish  fish  in  the  lake.  He  returned  to  get  it 
— and  he  could  not  find  it ! 

Had  he  made  a  mistake  in  the  location?  No.  Of 
course,  such  a  mistake  was  possible,  but  here  was  the 
very  angle  in  which  he  had  been  sitting,  when  he  cast 
his  hook;  yes,  here  were  the  marks  of  his  boot-heels, 
and  here  was  the  little  draw  up  which  he  had  run. 
And  here,  in  this  crevice,  was  the  slime  from  the  fish 
itself !  But  the  fish  itself  was  absent ;  spirited  away  ex- 
actly as  had  been  spirited  away  those  two  other  fish  by 
the  log! 

Humph !  Phil  searched  about,  keenly. 

"  All  right,"  he  spoke,  to  the  waters  of  the  blue  lake. 
"  All  right,  brother  fish,  if  you  got  in  again.  Hope  you 
did.  Your  medicine  is  bigger  than  mine,  I  reckon. 
And  howdy  to  you,  brother  Four-Toes.  You're  all 
pretty  smart,  around  here.  If  you  don't  want  us  to 
have  any  fish,  I  guess  we  don't  get  'em.  I'm  going 
back  to  camp." 

So  around  the  end  of  the  blue  lake  he  tramped,  and 
through  the  brush,  for  camp.  And  hither  came  Chet, 
with  one  fish,  but  a  monster  weighing  fully  ten  pounds ; 
a  fish  almost  as  long  as  he  was  tall.  It  was  the  yellow 
lake  kind — bass-like,  with  blue  belly. 

"  It  was  the  only  bite  I  had,"  announced  Chct, 
proudly.  "  He  thought  he'd  caught  me,  and  I  thought 
I'd  caught  him,  and  there  we  had  it,  nip  and  tuck. 
Didn't  know  but  what  I'd  have  to  snub  him  to  the 


THE    MAGIC    LAKES  97 

mountain  and  shoot  him,  but  finally  he  tuckered  and 
quit.  Where  are  yours  ?  " 

"  Mine  came  out,  and  went  in  again,  like  those  two 
others,  according  to  Dan."  And  Phil  explained  what 
had  happened.  "  But  this  is  big  enough  for  a  meal,  if 
Dan  isn't  too  wolfish !  " 

Grizzly  Dan  had  not  been  in  camp  when  the  boys 
arrived;  but  now  he  came  trudging  from  quarter 
unknown,  his  long  rifle  upon  his  shoulder  and  Bonita 
at  his  heels. 

"  Wagh !  "  uttered  the  old  trapper,  at  sight  of  the 
giant  fish.  "  Hyar's  meat,  such  as  it  air.  White  meat 
don't  shine,  with  me,  'longside  red  meat — 'less  it  be 
beaver  tail  or  bufFler  fat;  but  fish  air  good,  for  a 
change,  an'  I  air  gettin'  wolfish  agin.  Who  ketched 
him?" 

"  Chet.  I  caught  a  smaller  one,  and  left  him  a 
minute,  and  he  disappeared,"  said  Phil. 

"  Wall,  now,  I  told  you  this  air  medicine  country," 
remarked  the  old  trapper.  "  'Tain't  safe  to  leave 
things  lyin'  about.  This  hyar  whole  camp  is  liable  to 
be  swallered  up  or  snaked  away.  But  we'll  cache  that 
fish  in  a  cedar  an*  wropped  in  a  sack;  an'  if  he  disap- 
pears afore  we  eat  him,  then  we'll  know  it  air  Old 
Four-Toes  himself  that  air  up  to  mischief.  It  air  too 
big  a  morsel  for  ornery  varmint,  same  as  left  this  hyar 
sign  that  I  found.  Lookee ! "  and  he  held  out  a  fish- 
head,  newly  gnawed. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  SECRETS  OF  THE  LAKES 

"  WHERE'D  you  find  that  ?  "  asked  Phil ;  and  Chet 
asked,  "What  about  it?" 

"  After  you'd  gone  I  went  'round  to  yore  log,  whar 
the  fust  fish  had  been  left  for  Four-Toes  our  brother, 
an'  I  seed  whar  some  varmint  or  image  of  a  varmint 
had  been  down  an'  dragged  somethin'  off.  So  I  jest 
follered  that  trail  back  a  ways,  me  an'  the  dawg;  an' 
we  come  to  this  hyar  fish-head,  in  the  brush." 

"  But  we  hadn't  seen  any  trail,"  expostulated  Chet. 
"  We  looked,  too." 

"  Wall,  I  reckon  you  ain't  been  educated  to  sign, 
yet,"  replied  Grizzly  Dan,  indulgently.  "  It  war  plain 
enough  to  me — some  bent  grass,  some  slime  from  the 
fish,  an'  so  forth.  This  air  a  fresh-gnawed  head,  but 
what  did  it  I'm  not  sayin'.  Maybe  it  air  the  head  o' 
one  o'  yore  fish,  an'  maybe  it  air  not  the  head  o'  one 
o'  yore  fish.  But  if  thar  air  varmint  'round  that  think 
to  fool  us,  I'm  goin'  to  see  if  they  can  fool  a  trap.  If 
they  air  medicine,  I  can't  trap  'em;  if  they  ain't 
medicine,  they've  got  to  trade  me  in  a  pelt  for  those 
'ere  fish.  But  fust  we'll  make  the  oven  ready  for  the 
fish  we've  got,  an'  he  can  be  cookin'." 

Following  the  lead  and  directions  of  old  Dan,  the 
boys  helped  to  scoop  out,  in  the  soft  soil,  a  trench  about 


THE   SECRETS    OF    THE   LAKES       99 

as  long  as  the  fish  and  about  twice  as  deep  as  the  fish 
was  thick ;  and  into  this  was  changed  the  fire.  Here  it 
burned  for  the  next  two  hours,  while  the  camp  rested, 
and  while  the  shadows  grew  longer  and  longer  as  the 
sun  sank  into  the  west.  But  as  old  Dan  waxed  ever 
more  "  wolfish,"  and  as  the  boys  as  well  felt  the  on- 
stealing  pangs  of  hunger,  the  fish  was  early  sacrificed. 
It  was  coated  thickly  with  moist  clay — the  adobe 
of  the  West;  the  fire  was  scooped  out  of  the  trench 
and  the  fish  was  laid  in;  then  the  coals  were  heaped 
upon  it.  The  thought  of  what  was  happening  to  that 
fish  made  Phil's  mouth  water.  Even  Bonita  was  in- 
terested. 

Grizzly  Dan  overhauled  his  sack  of  traps ;  he  dumped 
the  traps  upon  the  ground  and  poked  at  them  with  a 
stick. 

"  An*  I  saw  beaver  sign,  too/'  he  mumbled,  as  if  to 
himself.  "  Hyar — don't  'ee  touch  those  traps,  boy. 
Less  man  smell  we  get  on  'em  the  better.  Yep,  I  saw 
beaver  sign,  too,  whar  one  old  beaver  lives  under  the 
bank.  He  air  a  bachelor — what  we  call  a  bum,  I 
reckon.  Used  to  be  plenty  beaver,  t'other  end  o'  the 
blue  lake,  an'  down  the  stream.  But  they  war  all 
trapped  out  by  a  gang  o'  half-breed  butchers,  twenty 
year  ago.  Maybe  this  old  feller  war  left,  somehow; 
an'  he's  come  back  to  settle  whar  he  war  a  boy." 

"  That's  queer,"  vouchsafed  Phil. 

"  Beaver  are  smart,"  declared  Chet,  wisely. 

"  They  air,"  agreed  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Beaver  air 
humans  in  animile  form.  That's  all.  When  beaver 
get  too  bad  persecuted,  the  rest  o'  them  light  out  for 


ioo  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

other  parts ;  but  occasional  one  will  return  agin.  So  I 
reckon  that  war  the  case  with  this  hyar  fellow." 

"  Did  you  see  him?  Are  you  going  to  trap  him?  " 
asked  Chet,  eagerly. 

"  No,  I  didn't  see  him ;  but  I  see  his  hole,  an'  I  see 
the  canal  he's  made  through  the  brush.  He  air  a  bum, 
a  bachelor,  an'  he  don't  live  in  any  lodge.  He  lives  in 
a  hole  under  the  bank,  like  a  mink  or  a  rat.  That  air 
pretty  low  down  for  a  beaver.  No,  why  should  I 
ketch  him?  He  air  the  last  of  his  tribe,  like  I  be,  tryin' 
to  enjoy  what's  left  to  him  of  a  country  that  war  once 
his.  This  air  his  sanctuary.  But  I'll  ketch  that  var- 
mint that's  stealin'  our  meat — if  I  can." 

The  fish  baked  for  about  an  hour.  When  the  coals 
were  removed  and  it  was  raked  with  sticks  out  of  the 
trench-oven,  it  was  as  hard  as  paper-mache — but  at  the 
first  blow  it  cracked  open  and  a  cloud  of  fragrant  steam 
welled  forth.  Good  ?  It  was  immense!  It  was  a  mass 
of  sweet,  fine,  pink  flesh  threaded  upon  the  back-bone ; 
and  when  the  clay  was  peeled  off  it  took  the  scales  with 
it,  and  when  the  back-bone  was  lifted  out,  like  a  core, 
the  next  operation  was  to  eat  and  eat  and  eat  again. 

"  That's  shore  some  fish,"  remarked  Chet,  his  mouth 
crammed. 

"  It  air,"  concurred  old  Dan. 

And  it  "  war." 

The  fish  having  been  given  time  to  settle,  old  Dan 
concluded  his  after-supper  pipe,  and  lazily  rising  threw 
a  couple  of  traps  in  a  gunny  sack,  over  his  shoulder, 
took  up  his  long-barreled  rifle,  without  which  he  never 
stirred  abroad,  and  started. 


THE  SECRETS    OF    THE1  LAKES      101 

"  Sure;  come  if  you  want  to,':  he  bade.  "  But  tie 
up  the  dawg,  an'  keep  in  my  trail  an'  don't  go  scatterin' 
yoreselves  all  over  creation — though  whatever  stole 
those  fish  don't  seem  much  scared  o'  man  smell,  I 
jedge.  I  still  think  it  war  a  medicine  animile  o'  some 
kind,  an'  I  mought  as  well  try  to  ketch  some  beaver 
who's  up  to  trap.  But  I  can  find  out." 

Leaving  Bonita  to  whine  at  being  tethered  in  camp, 
the  two  boys,  carrying  also  their  guns,  followed  Grizzly 
Dan,  as  with  long  stride  he  proceeded  through  the  twi- 
light, skirting  the  shore  of  the  blue  lake.  In  the  brush 
a  little  way  back  from  the  log  he  set  one  trap.  He 
dragged  it,  by  a  forked  stick,  in  the  water,  first,  and 
placed  it  and  set  it,  by  means  of  the  stick ;  and  with  his 
hat  he  carried  water  and  plashed  the  ground  around 
about  it  as  if  to  wash  away  any  odor.  Over  the  trap 
he  suspended  a  piece  of  fish,  from  a  wand  of  brush, 
so  that,  reaching  for  the  fish,  the  animal  would  step 
upon  the  pan  of  the  trap.  And  here  and  there  he 
scattered  other  bits  of  the  fish,  as  a  trail.  When  he  was 
through,  the  trap  could  not  be  seen,  the  pieces  of  fish 
were  naturally  strewn,  and  for  a  radius  of  a  yard  or 
more  around  the  trap  man  smell  probably  was  lacking. 

A  second  trap  was  set,  with  similar  pains,  among  the 
rocks  across  the  blue  lake,  where  Phil's  fish  had  disap- 
peared. Then  the  party  returned  to  camp,  to  make 
ready  for  the  night. 

Speedily  all  the  low  country  was  enveloped  in 
shadow,  and  swiftly  the  line  of  sunshine  ascended  to 
cloak  the  mountains  also.  Through  some  far  rift — 
possibly  through  the  canon-trail  itself — the  beams 


102  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

lingered  longest  upon  Red  Chief.  After  all  else  was 
dark,  he  stood  forth,  with  his  purple  and  maroon  figure 
illuminated  softly.  Regretfully,  gradually,  the  line  of 
light  dividing  day  and  dusk  crept  up  over  him,  also, 
until  only  his  banded  chest  and  his  crown  were  lighted. 
The  boys  watched,  breathless,  while  his  chest  faded 
into  shadow,  and  finally  only  his  crown  remained  in 
shine — the  last  bit  of  shine  in  the  world,  it  seemed. 
Just  the  tip  of  him  was  now  plain — just  the  crimson 
tip;  and  slowly  it  too  merged  with  the  sky,  and  Red 
Chief  was  dull  and  slumbersome  against  the  starry 
background.  He  had  pulled  his  robe  around  him,  and 
slept. 

Quiet  reigned.  Fish  plashed  in  the  lakes,  an  owl 
hooted,  a  little  breeze  sighed  through  the  few  cedars ; 
but  these  sounds  did  not  disturb,  they  comforted. 
Then,  just  as  the  camp  had  settled  into  bed,  sounded 
from  the  water  a  loud,  smart  "  whack!  "  as  if  some- 
body had  spatted  the  surface  with  a  paddle. 

"  Beaver,"  announced  Grizzly  Dan,  from  his  tarp. 
"  That's  him,  playin'  or  makin'  believe,  an'  flappin'  his 
tail  as  a  signal.  Wagh!  Ain't  I  heard  the  same  a 
million  times !  It  air  the  trapper's  lullaby." 

Phil  lay,  waiting  for  further  slaps  (which  did  not 
come),  and  fearing  that  he  would  hear  the  crisp  click 
of  a  sprung  trap.  He  was  not  certain  that  he  could 
hear  either  of  the  traps,  at  this  distance ;  and  he  hoped 
that  he  couldn't.  The  more  he  thought  about  those 
traps,  the  less  he  favored  them.  To  kill  an  animal, 
even  instantly,  was  bad  enough,  although  sometimes 
advisable;  but  to  catch  one  in  a  trap,  and  hold  it  by 


THE   SECRETS    OF    THE   LAKES      103 

crushed  foot  or  leg,  and  torture  it  for  hours,  was  hor- 
rible. 

However,  he  fell  asleep — to  be  wakened,  as  custom- 
ary, by  old  Dan  moving  about.  Dan  did  not  appear 
to  be  eating;  he  appeared,  rather,  to  be  sitting,  with  his 
Navajo  blanket  over  him,  smoking  and  mumbling,  be- 
side the  flickering  fire. 

"What's  up?"  asked  Phil. 

The  old  trapper  did  not  answer,  but  continued  his 
mumbling  and  strange  motions.  In  due  time  he  ex- 
plained. 

"  I  war  makin'  fresh  medicine.  Nobody  can  ketch 
that  thar  varmint,  boy.  I  knowed  it  can't  be  done. 
Didn't  I  say  I  could  jest  try  ?  " 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  demanded  Phil. 

"  'Cause  the  trap  air  sprung,  an'  he  ain't  in  it.  I 
heard  it  spring,  an'  I  went  down.  It  war  the  trap  back 
from  the  log.  Yep,  it  war  sprung  but  it  had  cotched 
only  a  stick  an'  all  the  bait  war  gone !  That  thar  var- 
mint had  reached  in  with  a  stick,  an*  sprung  the  pan, 
an'  had  gone  off  laughin'.  Wagh!  Heap  big  medi- 
cine !  When  an  animile  is  up  to  trap,  like  that,  it  air 
no  use  foolin'  with  him." 

"Aw!  Didn't  you  catch  anything?"  stammered 
Chet,  sleepily,  waked  by  the  conversation. 

"  Just  a  stick,  he  says,"  replied  Phil. 

"  An'  a  stick  is  all  we'll  find  in  that  thar  other  trap, 
acrost  the  lakes,"  asserted  Grizzly  Dan.  "  You  mark 
my  word.  I  heared  it  spring,  too,  a  minute  ago." 

"  I'm  going  to  see,"  said  Chet,  rolling  out. 

"  Go  easy,  an'  I'll  show  ye  a  beaver,"  advised  Grizzly 


104  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Dan.  "  He's  out,  in  the  moonlight.  He's  been 
splashin'  an'  slappin'  with  his  tail,  like  a  whale  or  two. 
Hyar — follow  me." 

A  quarter-moon  was  shining,  with  ghostly  light ;  and 
behind  old  Dan,  in  his  buckskins  and  moccasins,  flint- 
lock rifle  in  hand,  trod  the  two  boys,  as  if  upon  a  scout. 
Bonita,  still  tied  (to  keep  her  out  of  the  traps),  stared 
after  and  mildly  whimpered. 

Through  among  the  shadows  of  the  cedars  they  stole, 
and  bending  low,  made  a  circuit,  to  approach  the  blue 
lake  at  a  point  selected  by  Grizzly  Dan.  He  cautioned 
them  with  his  hand ;  and  at  last,  lying  flat,  they  peered 
out  at  the  water  which  glassy  spread  before,  at  the  feet 
of  the  slumbering  Red  Chief.  But  the  glassy  surface 
was  wrinkled  by  a  succession  of  ripples;  and  now  ap- 
peared a  round  black  head,  with  the  back  trailing  off 
like  the  tail  of  a  comma,  as  some  animal  swam  leisurely 
about.  It  must  be  the  beaver — as  was  verified  by  old 
Dan's  muttered  :  "  Shht !  " 

The  beaver,  circling  aimlessly  and  alone,  swam  to  the 
hither  shore,  waddled  forth,  disappeared  amidst  the 
brush,  and  presently  reappeared  with  a  stick  in  his 
mouth.  This  he  bore  through  the  water,  and  then 
vanished  close  to  the  bank  at  another  point. 

"  Storin'  it  away  in  his  burrow,"  whispered  old  Dan. 
"  He  air  a  big  bachelor.  Shht !  " 

The  beaver  had  reappeared.  He  swam  about  again, 
and  climbed  out  upon  a  rock,  where  he  sat  like  a  spaniel 
in  the  moonlight.  He  evidently  was  fat  and  sleek,  and 
probably  was  gray-whiskered,  and  perhaps  was  lone- 
some. But  as  he  sat  there  he  had  an  odd,  unnat- 


THE   SECRETS    OF    THE    LAKES      105 

urally  sleek  outline,  at  which  Phil  caught  himself  puz- 
zling. 

"  Wagh!  "  suddenly  ejaculated  Grizzly  Dan,  stand- 
ing. Down  dived  the  beaver — leaving  a  loud  slap  of 
his  tail  as  a  memento.  But  old  Dan  paid  no  attention 
to  that.  He  stared,  with  mouth  open, — or  probably 
open, — under  his  shaggy  whiskers.  "  Did  you  see  that, 
now  ?  "  he  invited,  as  the  two  boys  also  rose.  "  Did 
you  see  that,  now?  War  thar  anything  remarkable 
about  that  'ere  beaver,  to  you?  " 

"  Awful  fat?  "  hazarded  Chet. 

"  Something  queer,  though;  but  I  don't  know  what," 
added  Phil. 

"  He  warn't  all  thar,"  asserted  Grizzly  Dan,  still 
astounded.  "  That's  what  air  the  matter :  he  warn't 
all  thar.  He  had  only  one  leg !  He  war  sheared  o'  the 
other  three!" 

"  Must  have  been  trapped !  " 

"  Sartinly.  He  air  an  old  bum  beaver,  an'  he's  been 
trapped  three  times,  an'  gnawed  himself  free  every 
time.  He's  got  one  hind  foot  an'  three  stumps,  air  all. 
But  he  air  pork  fat,  at  that !  " 

"  How  does  he  swim  and  dive,  then  ?  "  gasped  Phil. 

"  He  does ;  he's  1'arned — which  air  another  wonder- 
ful thing.  Jest  as  I  told  ye,  he's  one  of  the  old  colony, 
come  back." 

"  Well,  he's  earned  his  life,"  said  Chet,  stoutly. 

"  The  man  who'd  tech  an  animile  like  that  is 
meaner'n  a  pizenous  Digger  Injun,"  avowed  Grizzly 
Dan.  "  But  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  this  beaver  had  got 
to  be  a  medicine  beaver,  an'  it  would  be  bad  luck  to 


io6  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

tech  him,  anyhow.  He's  livin'  in  the  blue  lake,  you 
notice,  too,  don't  ye?  Never  war  no  beaver  in  the 
yaller  lake,  which  is  another  funny  thing.  Always 
lived  in  the  blue  lake,  never  in  the  yaller.  Must  be  bad 
medicine  about  that  'ere  yaller  lake." 

They  waited  a  few  minutes,  but  the  crippled  veteran 
of  a  beaver  did  not  emerge.  So,  in  response  to  old 
Dan's  reminder,  "  Wall,  we'll  look  at  that  other  trap, 
over  yon,"  they  crossed  the  causeway.  The  path  was 
plain;  on  either  hand  the  water  of  the  two  lakes  lay 
silent  and  dark. 

The  trap  was  found;  but  it  had  been  sprung,  and 
nothing  was  in  it  but  a  stone,  which  old  Dan  declared 
had  been  dropped,  on  purpose,  by  the  mysterious  "  var- 
mint." 

"  I  told  ye  'twarn't  any  use,"  he  alleged,  as  he  lifted 
the  trap  to  carry  it  to  camp.  "  That  varmint  air  a 
critter  who  knows  more'n  I  do.  He's  up  to  trap.  I 
'spect  he  an'  that  beaver  an'  Old  Four-Toes  air  one. 
Who  ever  heard  of  a  beaver  swimmin'  an'  divin'  and 
gettin'  fat  with  only  one  foot !  " 

Thus  mumbling  and  wagging  his  head,  Grizzly  Dan 
took  his  trap  and  retraced  the  route  to  camp. 

'  The  springing  of  those  traps  didn't  wake  you  up, 
did  it  ?  "  asked  Chet,  curiously.  "  If  it  did,  you've  got 
powerful  ears." 

"  I  war  awake,  anyhow,"  confessed  old  Dan.  "  I 
ain't  like  I  used  to  be.  I  used  to  set  twenty  beaver 
trap,  an'  go  to  sleep,  knowin'  I  war  drownin'  maybe 
fifteen  beaver,  or  else  war  holdin'  some  by  the  leg  till  I 
could  kill  'em  with  an  ax  in  the  mornin'.  But  now 


THE  SECRETS    OF    THE   LAKES      107 

when  I  set  a  trap,  lots  o'  times  I  can't  get  it  off  my 
mind.  I  air  sorry  I  tortured  so  many  aniiniles — an'  I 
reckon  that  sorter  lays  heavy  on  me  when  I'm  ready 
for  sleep.  Trappin'  air  the  crudest  work  that  man 
does.  I  tell  'ee,  boys,  a  trapper  has  got  to  shut  his 
eyes  an'  ears  an'  heart.  So  when  I  set  these  hyar  traps, 
for  this  hyar  varmint,  I  jest  lay  thar,  listenin'  for  the 
spring,  so's  I  could  hurry  out  an'  put  the  critter  out  o' 
his  misery.  But  he  war  too  smart,  an'  I  air  glad." 

"But  you're  a  trapper,  aren't  you?"  put  in  Chet. 
"  That's  what  I  always  thought." 

Old  Dan  chuckled,  rather  sheepishly. 

"  Wall,  I  s'pose  maybe  I  go  'round  as  one,"  he  said. 
"  O'  course,  I  do  carry  these  hyar  traps,  in  my  old 
trap  sack.  If  I  didn't,  I'd  miss  'em.  I've  packed  a 
trap  sack  for  sixty  year,  an'  I  want  to  hear  the  jingle. 
An'  o'  course  I  set  a  trap  onct  in  a  while.  Thar  air 
animiles  that's  got  to  be  trapped — like  wolves  what  kill 
cattle.  But  that  air  self-defense.  No,  I  don't  reelly 
trap,  any  more.  Thar's  blood  enough  on  my  hands,  as 
it  is,  from  beaver  days." 

Bonita,  by  force  of  circumstances  on  guard  over  the 
deserted  beds,  was  glad  indeed  to  have  company  again. 

"  Then  you  really  believe  those  traps  were  sprung 
on  purpose,  do  you?"  ventured  Phil,  as  they  all 
crawled  in.  "  Do  you,  Dan  ?  " 

"What  traps?" 

u  These  two  we  set,  for  that  varmint." 

"  Sartin  sure,  boy.  Anybody  who's  trapped  much 
knows  that.  When  an  animile's  up  to  trap,  onct,  he'll 
cut  all  sort  o'  capers.  Yes,  sir.  I've  never  seed  it 


io8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

done,  myself;  but  I've  heard  old  Bill  Williams,  who 
war  the  greatest  trapper  of  us  all  in  beaver  days,  tell 
how  he's  sot  an'  he's  seen  an  old  beaver  approach  a 
trap,  with  a  stick  in  his  two  front  paws,  an'  poke  the 
pan  an'  spring  the  trap,  an'  then  go  away  shakin'  his 
sides!" 

"Aw— !"  scoffed  Chet. 

"Wall,  it's  been  done  to  my  traps,  time  an'  time 
agin,"  retorted  Grizzly  Dan.  "  An'  you've  been  hyar 
to-night,  to  know  what  happened.  So  believe  it  or  not, 
as  you  please.  But  how  air  yore  meat-bags?  I'm 
wolfish,  after  that  walk." 

Chet  and  Phil  decided  that  they  would  prefer  sleep. 
For  a  brief  time  Phil  drowsily  watched  the  old  trapper 
as,  wrapped  in  his  ancient  striped  Navajo  blanket,  he 
squatted  by  the  fire,  which  lighted  his  ragged  outlines. 
As  Phil  watched,  he  cogitated  upon  matters  in  general 
and  the  mysterious  "  varmint  "  and  the  veteran  footless 
beaver  in  particular;  just  as  he  drifted  away,  he  heard 
the  sharp  slap  of  the  beaver's  tail  upon  the  surface  of 
the  blue  lake,  to  which  the  veteran  by  the  fire,  with  a 
wave  of  his  pipe,  uttered  "  Wagh !  " 

Morning  came  soon.  Phil  was  awake  unusually 
early,  for  the  thin  moonlight  had  given  place  to  only 
another  thin  grayness.  The  air  was  chill  and  moist ; 
the  fire  was  out ;  the  bed  amidst  the  blanket  and  quilts, 
under  the  tarpaulin,  was  comforting  and  warm;  but 
mindful  of  yesterday's  defeat  Phil  slipped  out  from  his 
cosy  nest  beside  Chet,  and  with  fishing  tackle  and 
carbine  (for  who  knew  what  might  be  abroad,  at  this 
hour  when  animals  returned  from  the  night's  foray?) 


THE   SECRETS    OF    THE   LAKES      109 

and  Bonita  for  company,  he  sought  the  water,  and  fish. 
Possibly  the  fish  had  forgotten,  or  would  not  expect 
anybody  so  early. 

He  came  out,  Bonita  trailing  behind  him,  at  the 
hither  end  of  the  causeway;  and  just  as  he  did  so  his 
eye  sighted  a  black  object  racing  across,  making  for 
the  other  end.  It  was  not  a  large  object — not  so  large 
as  Bonita,  who  likewise  saw  it  and  with  a  spring  was 
in  pursuit. 

Phil's  carbine  automatically  leaped  to  his  shoulder; 
but  the  black  object  had  vanished — no,  there  it  was 
again,  scurrying  over  the  rocks  across  the  water. 
Bonita  was  halfway  across,  herself — a  bouncing  bundle 
of  energy.  If  Phil  was  to  shoot,  he  must  shoot  quickly. 
The  black  thing  was  so  far,  and  was  moving  so 
erratically,  and  the  light  was  so  bad,  that  he  had  no 
idea  of  hitting  it ;  however,  taking  quick  aim  he  blazed 
away,  at  a  venture.  Scarcely  had  he  pressed  trigger 
when  the  bullet  spatted  roundly  against  the  rocks,  over 
there;  and  through  the  slight  haze  of  the  powder  the 
black  thing  had  disappeared. 

But  on  raced  Bonita;  and  now  after  her  ran  Phil, 
calling  to  her  to  come  back.  She,  too,  disappeared 
among  the  rocks.  Just  as  he  reached  the  other  end  of 
the  narrow  causeway  separating  yellow  lake  and  blue 
lake,  she  came  trotting  to  meet  him,  carrying  the  black 
thing !  He  must  have  hit  it,  then ! 

"  Here,  Bonita !  Drop  it,  Bonita ! "  he  ordered, 
advancing. 

Bonita  dropped  it,  but  stood  guard  over  it,  and  gave 
it  a  nip  or  two,  to  warn  it.  Phil  stooped  to  examine. 


no  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

It  was  a  furry  little  animal — black  furred — fur  long 
and  soft,  tail  bushy,  nose  pointed  like  a  coyote's ;  but  it 
was  of  course  not  a  coyote ;  it  looked  like  a  fox ! 

He  heard  a  "  Whoo-ee!  "  and  there  was  Chet,  at  the 
other  side  of  the  water,  calling  across.  You  could  de- 
pend upon  Chet's  following  close  the  report  of  the  little 
carbine.  Phil  took  the  black  furry  carcass  (which  was 
lifeless,  the  bullet  having  passed  through  the  neck) 
across  to  that  side,  Bonita  walking  proudly  in  his  wake, 
her  nose  against  the  drooping  bushy  tail. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  queried  Chet. 

"  Don't  know,  exactly.    Fox,  isn't  it?  " 

"Of  course — black  fox.  Oh,  say!  A  black  fox! 
He's  worth  money,  too!  How'd  you  shoot  him? 
Where  was  he?  " 

"  He  was  on  that  side  and  I  was  on  this.  He  was 
running  among  those  rocks.  Didn't  think  I'd  hit  him. 
Shot  just  for  luck.  And  I  didn't  know  I  had  hit  him 
till  Bonita  brought  him  out.  She  found  him." 

"  Take  him  to  camp  and  see  what  old  Dan  says," 
proposed  Chet ;  and  this  was  the  natural  thing  to  do. 

"  That  air  a  black  fox,"  concurred  old  Dan.  "  That 
air  the  black  fox  who's  been  'round  these  parts  for 
three  or  four  years,  an*  nobody  could  get  him.  I 
reckon  he  air  the  varmint  who  stole  those  fish  an* 
sprung  those  traps.  He  air  a  medicine  animile. 
What'd  you  shoot  him  with — lead  ?  " 

"Yes;  and  he  made  a  dandy  shot,  too,"  answered 
Chet,  vigorously. 

"  It  was  accident,"  explained  Phil.  "  I  scarcely 
aimed." 


THE  SECRETS  OF  THE  LAKES   in 

"  Don't  know  how  ye  did  it,  but  yore  medicine  war 
the  strongest,  this  inornin',"  muttered  the  old  trapper. 
"  You  must  ha'  kctchcd  him  when  he  war  weak.  Any- 
how, that  thar  pelt's  wuth  a  hundred  dollars.  You 
don't  often  find  a  reel  black  fox.  Pelt's  in  good  con- 
dition, too.  We'll  case  it  an'  tan  it,  an'  when  we  get 
back  you  can  sell  it." 

'  You  can  have  it.  I  don't  want  it.  I  didn't  want  to 
kill  him,"  replied  Phil. 

"  Then  you  hadn't  oughter  shot,"  decreed  old  Dan. 
"  If  you  go  along  doin'  things  by  accident  you're  liable 
to  get  into  a  heap  o'  trouble.  'Specially  if  you  shoot 
for  luck.  That's  why  I  stick  to  my  old  Sally,  hyar. 
She  has  only  one  load  in  her,  an'  so  I  got  to  make  every 
bullet  count.  But  we'll  see  about  this  fox  pelt.  Maybe 
I'll  buy  it  of  ye,  an'  maybe  I'll  make  some  kind  of  a 
swap,  an'  maybe  nobody'll  get  it.  We  ain't  out  o' 
Lost  Park  yet,  an'  we  got  our  own  pelts  to  take  keer 
of." 


CHAPTER  IX 

BAD  MEN  IN  THE  PARK 

OLD  DAN'S  spotted  pony  seemed  to  be  well  recovered 
from  that  long  roll  in  the  canon;  and  it  was  evident 
that  Dan  himself  had  determined  to  move  on  farther 
into  the  Park.  He  had  folded  his  bed,  and  arranged 
the  pack  saddles,  and  made  other  preparations. 

"  Hos  guard  out,"  he  reminded.  "  Leave  yore 
animile ;  I'll  case  him  for  ye.  You  get  after  the  hosses 
'fore  the  Injuns  drive  'em  off  an'  put  us  afoot."  And 
he  chuckled. 

They  drove  to  camp  the  three  horses  and  Betty  the 
mule,  and  as  customary  tethered  them  near,  in  readi- 
ness. The  pelt  of  the  black  fox  had  been  stripped,  by 
turning  it  inside  out  like  a  glove,  as  one  skins  a  rabbit, 
and  was  hanging  on  a  branch.  It  was  kept  open  and 
stretched  by  a  frame  thrust  into  it — a  frame  made  by  a 
long  twig  bent  into  an  oval  shape. 

"  Haven't  time  to  dress  it  now,"  quoth  Grizzly  Dan. 
*'  Do  it  later.  It  air  a  good  pelt,  for  this  time  o'  year. 
Eat.  Fill  yore  meat-bags  on  what  thar  air,  an'  we'll 
push  on  for  next  camp." 

So  they  sat  down  to  the  remnant  of  the  big  fish. 

"  Where  is  the  next  camp?  "  asked  Chet. 

"  Forty  mile  from  hyar,  boy.  It  air  an  old  camp 
I've  knowed  of  more  years  than  you  two  air  old.  It 

112 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  113 

air  a  white  Injun  camp  o'  beaver  days,  an'  I  air  about 
the  only  one  left  who  knows  it,  now.  Thought  we'd 
go  in  to  it." 

"  Must  be  'way  in  the  wildest  part  of  the  park,  then." 

"  It  air.  But  ketch  up,  ketch  up,  if  you're  done. 
Let's  travel.  Thar's  a  long  trail  an'  a  short  day. 
Douse  the  fire  an*  wipe  off  yore  dishes,  an'  I'll  be  puttin' 
on  the  packs.  Time  war,"  continued  old  Dan,  as  he 
adjusted  the  pack-saddles,  "  when  white  Injuns  didn't 
stop  to  douse  fires*  We  left  'em  whar  they  war — an' 
I  'spect  we  burned  a  heap  o'  timber.  But  that  didn't 
matter  to  us.  It  war  a  big  world,  out  hyar,  an*  when 
timber  burned,  thar  war  other  to  take  its  place.  We 
wasted  more  o'  nature  than  we  used,  which  war  hard 
on  the  buff'ler  an'  the  beaver  an'  drove  us  all  out  o' 
business,  at  last.  To-day  timber  air  timber,  meat  air 
meat,  an'  fur  air  fur.  Wagh!  You  boys'll  have  to 
1'arn  the  lesson  we  didn't  1'arn,  an'  be  keerful  o'  the 
animiles  an'  the  land,  so  it'll  keer  for  you." 

The  route  upon  which  old  Dan  now  led  off  followed 
down  along  the  yellow  lake,  and  turning  the  end  passed 
around  the  base  of  Red  Chief.  A  long  valley,  gradually 
climbing  to  the  crest  of  a  wooded  ridge,  extended  be- 
fore ;  and  entering  this,  the  little  cavalcade  bade  good- 
by  to  the  strange  yellow  and  blue  lakes,  watched  over 
by  the  mighty  crimson  peak,  to  the  veteran  beaver  and 
the  great  fish;  but  they  bore  away  with  them  the  un- 
fortunate black  fox,  overcome  when,  according  to 
Grizzly  Dan,  "  his  medicine  war  weak." 

But  they  did  not  leave  behind  them  him  who  Grizzly 
Dan  declared  was  the  presiding  genius  of  the  enchanted 


H4  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

place;  for  as  they  paralleled  a  small  stretch  of  moist 
ground,  where  seepage  from  the  slopes  had  soaked  up, 
with  a  short  exclamation  to  call  attention  the  leader 
pointed  down  beside  the  trail.  Enormous  bear  tracks 
were  here  imprinted ;  they  lacked  a  toe  on  the  left  hind 
foot;  they  headed  up  the  valley,  for  the  distant  ridge. 

"  Aw,  Old  Four-Toes!  "  cried  Chet.  "  He's  going 
in,  too." 

"  Yep;  an'  they  war  made  this  mornin'.  They  air 
not  more'n  two  hours  old,"  pronounced  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  I  reckon  those  thar  tracks  date  from  the  minute  when 
the  black  fox  died.  'Cordin'  to  my  idee,  that  black  fox 
war  Old  Four-Toes,  changed  shape ;  he'd  lost  his  medi- 
cine an*  war  hustlin'  to  get  it,  when  the  boy  shot  him ; 
an'  then  he  changed  back  again,  o'  course,  into  b'ar,  an' 
he  took  the  trail  for  the  inside  country.  If  he  air  medi- 
cine, that  war  easy  for  him.  He's  more'n  human  an' 
he  can't  be  killed." 

"  How  do  you  know  these  tracks  were  made  this 
morning?  "  invited  Phil,  from  the  rear. 

"  'Cause  when  they  show  on  the  dry  spots  it  air  plain 
that  they  war  made  after  dewfall  an*  'fore  the  sun  war 
high.  They  bent  the  grass  when  it  war  wet,  an'  they 
turned  over  pebbles  an'  sticks  so  that  the  wet  side  air 
underneath.  That's  what  I  got  off,  onct,  back  thar,  to 
see.  O'  course,"  and  old  Dan  chuckled,  "that  he 
changed  into  b'ar  agin  when  the  black  fox  war  per- 
forated, I  only  guess  at." 

"  We'd  better  watch  that  pelt,  then,"  advised  Phil. 
"  It's  liable  to  vanish,  or  something." 

"  It  air  liable  to  turn  into  a  stick  or  a  dried  leaf  on 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  115 

ye,"  agreed  old  Dan.  "  That's  what  it  air."  But  it 
didn't. 

They  were  riding  along  the  faintest  of  trails — a  trail 
so  faint  that  it  could  not  be  traced  underfoot,  and  only 
appeared  as  a  scarcely  perceptible  line,  like  an  impres- 
sion, on  before.  For  this  is  the  way  with  trails  when 
faint:  they  may  be  seen  before  and  behind,  but  not 
underneath.  This  trail  traversed  the  valley  which  from 
the  base  of  Red  Chief  gradually  conducted  to  the  crest 
of  the  ridge  beyond. 

The  valley  was  thickly  timbered ;  amidst  the  timber 
was  much  brushy  growth,  in  places  a  thicket,  where  the 
trail  was  no  trail  at  all.  But  old  Dan  rode  right  on- 
ward, never  hesitating,  forcing  his  spotted  pony 
through  the  interlacing  branches,  and  the  rest  of  the 
train  followed. 

"  Should  hate  to  run  cows,  in  this  country,"  called 
back  Chet.  "  They'd  all  go  wild.  It's  a  regular  maver- 
ick country." 

"  It  shore  is,"  concurred  Phil,  out  of  his  cow-puncher 
experience.  "  Guess  they  call  it  Lost  Park  because  any- 
thing that  once  gets  in  it  is  lost." 

"  Let  a  cow  be  over  in  here  once  and  she  sure  is  lost," 
declared  Chet,  sagely.  "  Lost  to  the  owner,  anyhow. 
I've  heard  there's  a  lot  of  wild  stock  in  the  park — cows 
and  horses  both.  But  nobody  can  get  'em." 

"  Wolves  get  'em,"  replied  old  Dan.  "  Some  years 
I've  seen  plenty  beef  an'  hos  hyar,  an'  agin  the  varmints 
have  cleaned  'em  all  out." 

When  finally  they  reached  the  top  of  the  ridge,  well 
were  they  paid  for  their  exertions.  Here  a  glorious 


ii6  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

sweep  of  country  burst  upon  the  view.  Old  Dan  had 
reined  in,  and  waited  for  the  rear  of  the  train  (which 
was  Phil)  to  join  him  and  Chet. 

The  crest  of  the  ridge  was  bare  of  trees  except  as  a 
few  spruces  were  scattered  about.  All  around  were 
other  ridges,  and  jagged  peaks,  some  snow-seamed. 
Behind,  ten  or  twelve  miles,  rose  the  beacon  of  Red 
Chief,  at  whose  further  base  were  the  two  medicine 
lakes  and  the  last  night's  camp.  The  sun  shone  upon 
him  gloriously,  bringing  out  a  white  cross  on  his  hither 
face.  Before,  clear  and  sharp,  jutted  against  the  blue 
sky  in  the  eastern  horizon  a  black  pinnacle  fringed 
along  the  top  with  teeth.  Old  Dan  had  removed  his 
hat,  as  if  worshiping;  even  the  animals  pricked  their 
ears,  and  gazed  abroad — until  the  irreverent  dun  mule, 
always  with  an  eye  to  the  practical  rather  than  to  the 
fanciful,  began  industriously  to  graze.  Cotton-tail  fol- 
lowed her  example,  and  the  saddle  horses  did  the  best 
that  they  also  could. 

"  I  have  climbed  hyar  as  many  times  as  I  have  ha'r 
in  my  whiskers,"  alleged  Grizzly  Dan,  somewhat  ex- 
travagantly, "  an'  I  always  find  something  new.  This 
air  called  Trappers'  Lookout.  I've  passed  hyar  with 
Jim  Bridger,  an'  Bill  Williams,  an'  Kit  Carson,  an'  Jim 
Beckwourth  who  war  the  mulatto  Crow  chief,  an'  the 
Sublettes,  an'  many  another  o'  the  mountain-man 
crowd;  an'  not  a  one  of  us  but  took  off  our  hats  an' 
made  medicine  that  we  war  alive  an'  in  God's  great 
world.  Now  they  all  air  gone — Bridger  an*  Carson  an' 
Fremont  an'  the  rest,  an'  only  I  air  left.  But  the 
country  is  left;  the  mountains  an'  the  hills  an'  the 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  117 

valleys  an'  the  sky  an'  the  sun  an'  the  free  wind  air 
left.  An'  when  I'm  gone,  too,  they'll  still  be  hyar. 
That  saw-tooth  yon/'  and  he  pointed  to  the  black  peak, 
"  is  Cockscomb  Peak;  it  air  sixty  miles  from  hyar.  An* 
now  you  see  the  cross  on  Red  Chief.  That  knob,  with 
snow  on  top,  is  Buffalo  Lodge  Peak;  it  air  shaped  like 
a  buffalo-robe  lodge.  That  peak  to  southward,  thirty 
mile,  air  Warrior  Peak.  Look  at  it  a  minute,  an'  you'll 
see  it  air  a  big  Injun,  laid  out  on  his  back,  under  his 
robe,  sleepin'.  The  Injuns  say  he  air  the  guardian  o' 
the  park,  an'  some  day  he'll  wake  up  an'  all  the  white 
men  will  be  driven  out  o'  the  country  an'  the  Injuns'll 
be  boss  agin.  See  him  ?  " 

Sure  enough.  Misty  blue  was  the  crest  indi- 
cated ;  but  it  took  shape  of  the  Indian,  asleep ;  his  arms 
were  folded  on  his  breast,  his  knees  were  slightly  bent, 
his  moccasin  toes  up-thrust,  all  underneath  a  blanket 
or  robe ;  and  clean-cut  against  the  sky  was  the  profile  of 
his  upturned  face — a  profile  very  Indian.  There  he  lay, 
motionless,  gigantic,  indeed  like  some  mighty  warder, 
enchanted  and  slumbrous,  at  his  post  above  the  vast 
region,  slope  and  vale  and  crest,  round  about.  Should 
he  ever  stand,  he  would  tower  into  the  sky  and  could 
stride  a  league  at  a  step.  It  would  then  be  a  sorry  day 
for  the  whites !  Only  a  thirteen-inch  cannon  could  per- 
haps cripple  him;  and  this  would  be  a  difficult  country 
for  a  thirteen-inch  cannon. 

"  We  camp  right  under  his  toes,"  resumed  old  Dan. 
"  But  I  reckon  he  ain't  goin'  to  tread  on  us,"  and  as 
customary  with  him,  the  trapper  chuckled.  "  We'll 
risk  it  agin.  Hyar's  whar  we  turn  off.  See  that  old 


n8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

blaze  on  that  thar  big  spruce?  That  blaze  dates  back 
further'n  I  do.  It  war  thar  when  I  fust  came  through 
hyar,  sixty  years  ago,  an'  we've  kept  the  bark  open  ever 
since.  Ketch  up,  ketch  up!  Wait!  Do  'ee  see  that 
smoke  yon?  Somebody  air  in  hyar  ahead  of  us. 
Wagh !  It  air  hostile  sign.  All  sign  in  a  wild  country 
air  hostile  till  you've  proved  'em  friendly.  Injuns, 
mebbe.  Mebbe  rival  trappers.  Wagh !  " 

Grizzly  Dan  was  staring  fixedly  into  the  distance, 
toward  the  sleeping  Indian.  Here,  in  a  jumble  of  lower 
ridges,  of  craggy  uplifts,  rock-fanged,  and  of  dark- 
green  evergreens  blotched  with  the  emerald  of  the 
quaking  aspens  and  topped  by  snow-patches,  with  the 
broad  blue  sky  overhead,  spread  a  land  apparently  with- 
out human  being  therein,  and  never  before  visited  by 
human  being;  a  wild  land,  the  wildest  that  Phil  ever 
had  beheld. 

"  I  see  it,"  proclaimed  Chet,  suddenly.  "  It's  curling 
against  the  Indian's  nose." 

"  Right  you  air,"  said  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Somebody's 
camp-fire ;  it  air  no  forest  fire,  an'  it  air  no  signal  fire. 
Wagh !  "  His  chin  was  thrust  forward  belligerently, 
his  jaws  were  working  as  he  cogitated,  and  from  under 
his  broad  brim  he  peered  along,  leaning  slightly  for- 
ward in  the  saddle  upon  his  spotted  pony.  "  Have  to 
look  into  that,"  he  muttered.  "  Sech  smoke  don't 
shine  with  this  coon.  If  some  one  air  cached  away  in 
thar,  I  want  to  know." 

Strive  as  Phil  did,  he  could  not  distinguish  the 
smoke. 

"See  it?  "asked  Chet. 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  119 

"  No,"  Phil  had  to  confess. 

"  Rises  right  against  the  Injun's  nose,"  directed 
Chet,  impatiently.  "Aw,  jiminy!  It's  as  plain  as 
your  own  nose." 

"  We'll  scout  down  thar,"  declared  old  Dan.  "  We'll 
leave  this  hyar  high  ground  an'  keep  our  eye  out  for 
sign.  Whoever  it  air,  must  have  come  in  by  t'other 
trail.  Nobody  but  us  an'  Old  Four-Toes  have  traveled 
this  trail." 

They  rode  on,  just  below  the  crest  of  the  ridge,  so 
as  not  to  be  outlined  against  the  sky  (although  it  oc- 
curred to  Phil  that  across  such  a  distance  they  would 
not  be  larger  than  fleas),  with  old  Dan,  in  the  lead,  sit- 
ting his  saddle  straight-up,  his  eyes  darting  right  and 
left  and  scrutinizing  the  ground,  and  even  the  clutch 
upon  his  rifle  betokening  especial  new  vigilance.  Thus 
they  wound  through  the  spruces  and  cedars. 

Once  a  clatter  was  heard;  and  reining  sharply  old 
Dan  peered  into  the  brush,  his  long  rifle  poised. 

"  Spike  buck,"  he  announced.  "  Wagh !  Thar  goes 
meat — an'  I'm  wolfish,  too.  But  a  man  air  a  fool  to 
fire  rifle  when  thar  air  hostile  sign  about,  an'  his  ha'r 
air  in  danger." 

They  rode  on. 

Phil  too  was  feeling  "  wolfish,"  as  old  Dan  expressed 
himself,  and  was  beginning  to  wonder,  despite  his 
hardihood,  when  the  next  meal  was  due  and  where  it 
was  coming  from.  They  were  making  diagonally 
down,  and  presently  were  in  a  draw,  thick  with  brush 
and  young  pines,  aspens  and  willows,  in  great  confus- 
ion. Through  it  coursed  a  stream.  Old  Dan  dexter- 


120  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

ously  leading,  the  pack  train  threaded  the  draw,  up  the 
stream,  and  at  the  juncture  of  this  and  another  stream 
Dan  suddenly  dismounted. 

"  Thar's  sign,"  he  announced  guardedly.  "  Some- 
body's passed  along  hyar,  up  this  t'other  branch,  an' 
they're  not  fur  above.  The  smoke  war  in  that  direc- 
tion, an'  hyar  air  chips  that  no  beaver  has  gnawed,  an' 
hyar  air  bones  that  no  animile  ever  thro  wed  away. 
Thar's  a  camp  up  a  little  way,  an'  it  air  a  trapper's 
camp,  too.  Hyar's  a  mark  whar  a  trap  war  set;  an 
hyar  air  plenty  entrails  an'  meat  that  proved  too  much 
for  the  fish.  Trout  air  gettin'  fat  livin'.  Wagh !  We'll 
go  up  an'  see.  One  o'  you  boys  climb  a  tree,  an'  look 
round  for  that  thar  smoke." 

"  You  go  up  one  and  I'll  go  up  another,"  challenged 
Chet.  "  I'll  beat  you." 

"  Choose  a  high  one,  choose  a  high  one,"  warned 
Grizzly  Dan. 

Phil  sprang  for  the  branches  of  a  tapering  spruce, 
which  seemed  to  promise  well;  and  he  heard  Chet 
grunting  and  scrambling  in  rival  feat. 

The  spruce  fulfilled  its  promise.  From  the  swaying 
top  a  clear  view  was  given :  of  the  ridge  which  they 
had  left,  of  the  timber  jungle  around,  of  Warrior  Peak 
whither  they  were  bound,  and  of  a  bluish  haze  curling 
from  the  evergreen  sea,  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  south- 
east, in  the  direction  of  Warrior  Peak  and  probably  up 
the  branch  of  the  stream  which  had  been  followed. 

"  All  right,"  called  Phil,  guardedly,  "  I  see  it." 

He  descended.  Chet  descended  at  the  same  time, 
and  scratched  and  puffing  made  similar  report.  Griz- 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  121 

zly  Dan  was  smoking  his  short  black  pipe,  and  taking 
things  easy. 

"  Wall,"  he  said,  "  I  reckon  we'll  chance  it.  It  may 
be  a  question  o'  eatin'  our  moccasins  or  losin'  our  h'ar, 
so  we'll  chance  it.  They  air  white  folks,  says  Betty; 
for  that  'ere  mule  can  smell  Injun  a  mile  away,  like  any 
mule  can.  But  when  we  strike  the  camp,  you  watch 
me,  what  I  do,  an'  don't  you  let  loose  o'  yore  shootin' 
irons.  An'  if  old  Sal  speaks,  give  it  to  'em  whilst  I'm 
reloadin',  but  never  let  all  the  guns  get  empty  at  onct. 
That's  trapper  gospel."  Then— "Shht!"  he  cau- 
tioned, with  a  little  clack  of  the  tongue.  He  nodded  at 
Betty  the  mule,  and  hastily  dumping  the  ashes  from  his 
pipe  into  the  water,  ceased  smoking  and  was  motion- 
less. 

Phil  noted  that  the  dun  mule's  ears  were  pricked  for- 
ward, as  she  stared  across  the  brush,  and  that  Bonita 
also  was  listening,  as  she  sat.  He  thought  that  he 
could  hear  a  twig  crack,  as  if  something  might 
be  approaching,  down  a  trail  which,  now  he  ob- 
served, emerged  from  the  undergrowth,  for  the 
stream.  It  was  a  cow-trail  or  game-trail — and  prob- 
ably both. 

After  an  instant  of  silence,  the  sound  of  steps  was 
plain,  unmistakably  made  by  boots;  and  with  all  the 
animals  pricking  their  ears,  and  the  rest  of  the  party 
equally  alert,  the  form  of  a  man  appeared,  coming  on 
through  the  brush,  for  the  water.  He  saw  the  horses, 
and  hesitated,  startled;  but  old  Dan  stood  erect,  and 
accosted  shortly: 

"How?" 


122  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

The  man  resumed  his  course. 

"Howdy?"  he  answered,  surveying  the  group. 

He  was  a  tall,  stooping-shouldered  man,  with  bright 
red  hair  and  reddish  whiskers,  and  small  blue  eyes  set 
close  together.  His  black  shirt  was  open  at  the  throat, 
uncovering  more  of  the  reddish  hair  there.  His  small 
blue  eyes  had  a  peculiar  wavering,  nervous  expression 
as  they  darted  from  one  face  to  another.  He  was  not 
a  handsome  man ;  he  was  even  unwholesome  .and  un- 
pleasant. 

Over  his  shoulder  he  carried  a  couple  of  traps,  which 
he  carelessly  dropped  into  the  brush,  as  if  to  ease  him- 
self. 

"  Fishin'  ?  "  he  asked.    "  Packin'  through,  I  see." 

"  Yes,  jest  packin'  through,"  drawled  old  Dan, 
gently.  "  Pretty  rough  traveling  too.  How  do  ye  get 
out  o'  this  hyar?  We're  all  tangled  up." 

"  Where  you  bound  for  ?  "  demanded  the  man. 

"Is  this  hyar  Snake  Creek?"  parried  old  Dan. 

"  No,  should  say  not.  Snake  Creek's  other  side  of 
the  divide,  uncle.  You're  away  off.  You  want  to  get 
out  of  here  and  cross  that  ridge  yonder,  and  go  down. 
This  is  Lost  Park  country." 

"  It  air?  "  exclaimed  old  Dan,  comically  bewildered. 
"  Whar  air  we,  then?  It  air  the  wust  travelin'  I  ever 
got  into.  How  do  we  get  out,  stranger?  " 

:*  You  can  follow  this  trail,  and  aim  for  that  saddle 
in  that  ridge ;  see  ?  "  and  the  red  man  pointed  to  the 
space  between  the  toes  and  the  knees  of  the  sleeping 
Indian  brave  who  formed  Warrior  Peak.  "  After  that 
you've  got  another  ridge  to  cross,  'fore  you  strike 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  123 

Snake  Creek.  You're  sure  lost  if  you  think  you're  near 
Snake  Creek  now." 

"  Should  jedge  you  aren't  fur  from  camp,"  hazarded 
old  Dan.  "  How  air  you-all  fixed  for  meat  ?  We  air 
plumb  starved.  Mought  we  borrow  or  buy  a  little 
grub,  you  think?  " 

"  There's  plenty  o'  meat  runnin'  wild  through  this 
brush,"  hinted  the  red  man.  "  You  needn't  suffer." 

"  Wall,"  returned  old  Dan,  drawling,  "  it  ain't  run 
over  us,  yet.  But  o'  course  if  you  can't  'commodate 
us " 

"  Sure,  we  can  help  you  out  a  bit,"  answered  the  red 
man.  "  You  follow  this  trail  a  bit,  and  take  the  first 
turn  to  your  right,  and  edge  in  toward  the  creek  again, 
and  you'll  find  the  camp.  My  pardner's  there;  he'll 
fix  you  out,  I  guess.  Where's  your  fish  ?  " 

"  The  creek  air  so  brushy,  we  can't  ketch  fish,"  ex- 
plained old  Dan. 

"  Maybe  you  don't  know  how,  uncle,"  grinned  the 
red  man.  "  Ought  to  shoot  'em  with  that  flintlock," 
and  he  winked  impudently  at  Phil  and  Chet. 

"  Mebbe  so,"  agreed  old  Dan,  meekly.  "  But  we'll 
be  right  glad  of  a  chance  at  reel  meat  o'  some 
kind." 

"  There's  real  meat,"  insisted  the  red  man,  "  if  you 
don't  mind  horns." 

"  Agin  the  law,  ain't  it,  to  shoot  deer  now  ?  "  asked 
old  Dan. 

"If  you  go  according  to  the  law,  you're  likely  to  be 
hungry  again,"  said  the  red  man.  '  This  is  a  free 
country.  Who  owns  it  ?  I  do,  and  you  do,  and  so  do 


I24  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

we  all.  Nobody's  got  any  right  to  say  I  can't  shoot 
a  deer  when  I  want  to.  They're  my  deer — and  your 
deer,  as  much  as  anybody's  deer.  If  I  don't  shoot  my 
share,  some  one  else  will." 

"  Yes,  but  if  thar  ain't  no  law,  won't  anybody  have 
any  share,  pretty  soon,"  drawled  old  Dan.  "  Seems  to 
me  the  law  had  to  be  made  so  folks  would  shoot  their 
share  an'  stop.  But  ain't  thar  other  meat  hyar- 
abouts?" 

"  I  was  only  talking  about  the  deer,"  claimed  the 
red  man,  hastily.  "  Of  course,  deer  aren't  good  out  of 
season,  anyway;  and  as  you  say,  there  must  be  laws. 
Yes,  there's  other  meat.  Once  in  a  while  a  maverick 
cow.  No  law  against  killing  a  maverick." 

"  Yes,  there  is,"  denied  Chet.  "  AH  these  mavericks 
belong  to  the  State." 

"  No,  they  don't,  sonny,"  corrected  the  red  man. 
"  They  belong  to  the  fellow  who  gets  'em  first — in 
here.  But  there  ain't  many  left.  Black  wolves  cleaned 
'em  out.  And  now  we're  after  the  wolves.  Don't 
happen  to  have  seen  any  ?  " 

"That's  what  those  thar  traps  air  for,  air  they?" 
remarked  old  Dan.  "  I  war  wonderin'.  What'd  you 
say?  Black  wolves?  No,  ain't  seen  any.  Air  they 
dangerous?  " 

"  Worst  varmints  in  the  mountains.  The  govern- 
ment sent  me  and  my  pardner  in  here  to  see  what  we 
could  do.  Those  black  wolves  come  up  from  Mexico, 
and  if  they  spread  they'll  eat  the  country  alive!  Yes, 
sir.  I  tell  you  what!  We  get  fifty  dollars  for  every 
one  we  catch,  and  our  expenses,  besides." 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  125 

"  You  must  be  some  trappers,"  praised  Chet,  ad- 
miringly. 

"  That's  right,  sonny." 

"  Do  ye  want  any  b'ar?  "  asked  old  Dan,  "  or  jest 
wolves  ?  " 

"  Seen  any  bear?  " 

"  Saw  a  thunderin'  big  track ;  looked  like  a  b'ar 
track." 

"Near  here?    How  big?" 

'  'Bout  fourteen  inches  long  an'  ten  wide." 

"  Get  out,  uncle !  "  scofYed  the  red  man.  "  You  saw 
where  a  rabbit  had  sat  down." 

"  I'll  show  him  to  ye,"  retorted  old  Dan,  earnestly. 
''  You  look  at  that  thar  mud  patch,  in  the  stream,  an' 
you'll  see." 

They  all  looked,  quickly — the  two  boys  as  well  as 
the  red  man.  Midstream  was  a  small  flat,  whence  the 
waters  had  receded  after  a  rise;  and  the  sun  shining 
upon  it  brought  into  relief  a  single  imprint  of  what 
certainly  appeared  to  have  been  a  bear  foot. 

'  That  ?  "  spoke  the  red  man,  as  if  to  scoff  again. 
"  You  call  that  a  bear  track,  uncle?  "  He  plashed  in; 
Chet  and  Phil  plashed  after;  the  old  trapper  stood 
quietly  waiting — a  chuckle  working  inside  him. 
"  Jumpity  Jones !  "  gasped  the  red  man.  '  That  ain't 
one  bear  track ;  it's  two !  If  that's  a  bear  track,  it's  the 
biggest  bear  I  ever  heard  tell  of." 

"  It's  Four-Toes !  "  cried  Phil  to  Chet.  "  See?  One 
toe's  gone!  " 

"  Fresh,  too,"  averred  Chet. 

"  Four-Toes,  ain't  it?  "  queried  old  Dan. 


126  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

The  boys  nodded.  The  red  man  was  scratching  his 
head. 

"  Seems  your  uncle  is  right,"  he  said. 

"  Set  yore  traps,  set  yore  traps,"  chuckled  Grizzly 
Dan.  "  Thar's  yore  b'ar.  Fresh  track.  Mebbe  he's 
'round  hyar  yet.  You'd  get  more'n  fifty  dollar  out  o' 
him — wouldn't  ye  ?  " 

"  'Fraid  his  pelt  wouldn't  be  worth  much  so  late  in 
the  spring,  uncle,"  stammered  the  red  man.  "  There 
ain't  any  bounty  on  bears.  Can't  afford  to  monkey 
with  him." 

"  Guess  you  ain't  trappin'  that  size  o'  b'ar,  stran- 
ger," chuckled  old  Dan.  "  But  I  thought  I'd  jest  show 
ye  the  track.  Wall,  boys,  we'd  better  be  movin'  on. 
Fust  turn  to  the  right,  do  you  say,  stranger?  Thank 
'ee.  Good-day." 

"  So  long,"  replied  the  red  man,  still  midstream 
and  dubiously  scratching  his  thatch,  over  the  huge 
track.  And  this  was  the  last  they  saw  of  the  red  man, 
alive. 

They  rode  away,  up  the  trail.  Phil,  at  the  rear  as 
customary,  saw  that  the  brush  was  cut  by  a  number  of 
trails,  converging  to  this  the  main  one, — narrow  trails, 
made  by  four-footed  animals  probably  coming  down  to 
drink.  At  the  first  fork  to  the  right  Grizzly  Dan 
turned,  as  directed.  A  ride  of  a  quarter  of  an  hour 
through  the  dense  brush,  where  bushes  of  various  kinds 
and  low  willows  were  crowding  out  the  few  pines, 
brought  them  into  a  little  open  space ;  and  here  Grizzly 
Dan,  who  had  been  leading  at  an  easy  pace,  occasionally 
chuckling,  but  his  long  rifle  across  horn  and  his  eyes 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  127 

"(as  Phil  could  tell  by  the  angle  of  his  facej  searcli- 
ing  right  and  left,  halted,  to  communicate  his 
thoughts. 

"  Smell  smoke/'  he  said,  in  a  low,  monotonous  tone 
that  did  not  penetrate  far.  "  That  thar  man  with  the 
pre-airie  fire  ha'r,  he  thinks  I  don't  know,  do  he  ?  " 
And  Grizzly  Dan  chuckled  more.  "  Wall,  we'll  see. 
You  boys  keep  yore  mouth  shut  an'  yore  eyes  open, 
an'  I'll  do  the  rest.  We  air  goin'  into  a  beaver  camp, 
but  you  needn't  know  it.  Those  war  beaver  traps,  if 
ever  I  seed  a  beaver  trap  before,  an'  men  who  air 
breakin'  the  law  don't  relish  havin'  vis'tors;  so  we 
won't  stay  longer'n  necessary.  Wagh!  I'd  ruther 
ride  into  a  hostile  Injun  camp  than  into  a  bad  white 
man's.  But  come  on." 

The  camp  proved  to  be  only  a  short  distance,  now. 
Presently  the  curl  of  smoke  indicated  its  location,  in 
a  bend  of  the  stream,  amidst  some  spruces  and  at  one 
side  of  the  trail.  However,  another  trail  had  been 
broken  through  the  brush,  and  they  followed  it. 

They  were  in  plain  sight  of  the  camp,  as  they  ap- 
proached, for  a  man  stood  awaiting  them.  He  was  a 
short,  thick  man,  with  black  whiskers  as  shaggy  as 
the  whiskers  of  Grizzly  Dan  himself,  and  black,  matted 
hair.  His  eyes,  too,  were  very  black  and  piercing, 
under  shaggy  brows.  His  appearance  generally  was 
wild  and  unkempt ;  and  although  appearances  often  are 
deceiving,  Phil  felt  that  he  was  not  a  man  whom  one 
would  like  to  meet  on  a  lonely  trail. 

Old  Dan  rode  right  into  the  camp,  and  'dis- 
mounted. 


128  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"Howdy?"  he  greeted.  "I  reckon  we  met  yore 
pardner  back  a  ways.  He  told  us  we  might  get  a  little 
meat  hyar.  Red-haired  man,  warn't  he  ?  " 

"  Might  have  been,"  assented  the  black  man. 
"  Where  you  bound?" 

"  Travelin'  on,  I  reckon.  This  hyar  creek  ain't 
Snake  Creek,  I  understand.  Snake  Creek  air  across 
yonder  ridge." 

"  Yes,  and  then  some,"  answered  the  black  man. 
"  Do  you  want  Snake  Creek?  " 

"  If  we  get  thar,"  asserted  old  Dan,  guardedly. 
"  But  we  want  meat,  fust.  Can  you  spare  any?  We're 
plumb  out." 

"  Lots  o'  meat  'round,"  declared  the  black  man. 
"  Yes,  can  let  you  have  a  little."  He  went  to  a  tarpau- 
lin, and  lifted  a  corner,  and  dragged  out  a  chunk. 
"  This  be  enough  ?  We  killed  a  maverick  the  other 
day." 

"Beef,  eh?"  queried  old  Dan.  "Wall,  now! 
Wild  beef!  That'll  be  plenty  an'  more'n  plenty." 

"  Take  it,"  bade  the  black  man.  "  Nobody's  cat- 
tle is  everybody's  cattle,  ain't  they?  We  can  get 
more." 

"  Thank  'ee,"  and  old  Dan  wrapped  the  chunk  of 
fresh  meat  in  a  gunny  sack  and  tied  it  on  behind  his 
saddle.  "  It  air  hard  travelin'  on  an  empty  stomick, 
an'  it  air  hard  at  the  best,  in  this  hyar  brush.  But  we'll 
get  through,  we'll  get  through." 

The  camp  was  simple.  A  lean-to  of  spruce  and  pine 
boughs  constituted  the  shelter;  some  blankets  and 
quilts  were  hung  out  to  air;  a  fire  smoldered;  around 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  129 

it  sat  some  dirty  dishes ;  saddles,  both  pack  and  riding, 
denoted  the  presence  of  horses  or  mules ;  and  there  was 
in  the  air  an  unpleasant  odor  of  decomposing  flesh — 
an  odor  that  reminded  Phil  of  a  sheep  camp  where 
pelts  were  drying. 

"  Thank  'ee,"  proffered  old  Dan,  again,  as  he 
mounted.  "  Now  we'll  get  out  o'  this  brush.  Have  to 
cross  that  thar  ridge,  do  we  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  black  man.  He  had  not  asked 
them  to  stop,  and  rest  or  eat.  He  stood  watching  them, 
briefly ;  but  when  Phil  turned  and  looked  behind  again, 
he  had  vanished.  But  this  was  not  the  last  they  saw  of 
the  black  man,  alive. 

Old  Dan  led  on,  by  another  game  or  cow  trail  which 
pointed  for  the  peak.  He  did  not  say  a  word  until 
they  all  were  safely  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of  the 
camp ;  then  twisting  in  his  saddle,  he  opened  his  mouth 
for  speech  and  a  chuckle. 

"Didn't  I  tell  ye?"  he  demanded.  "Wagh! 
That  war  a  beaver  camp,  an'  those  air  beaver  thieves. 
They  air  ketchin'  beaver.  Couldn't  ye  smell  the  pelts  ? 
An*  did  ye  see  those  'ere  willow  hoops,  for  stretchin'  ? 
Thar  war  a  dozen  o'  them  hoops  layin'  about,  in  the 
brush,  an'  any  man  who's  up  to  beaver  knows 
what  that  means.  Never  heard  o'  ketchin'  wolves 
in  beaver  traps,  'cept  by  accident,  an'  never  heard 
o'  stretchin'  wolf  pelts  on  hoops!  Wagh!  Can't 
fool  this  hos.  That  sort  o'  talk  don't  shine  with 
him." 

"  What  can  we  do  about  it?  "  asked  Chet.  "  They 
ought  to  be  arrested." 


1 30  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Nothin',"  answered  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Nothin'  now, 
anyhow.  They  air  safe  enough,  in  hyar,  for  a  time,  but 
they  do  pollute  the  atmosphere.  Ketchin'  animiles 
agin  the  law  air  as  bad  as  robbin'  another  man's  cache. 
Both  air  stealin'.  If  it  warn't  for  you  two  boys,  I'd 
show  them  fellers  a  trick  or  so,  myself." 

"  We'll  help,"  ventured  Chet,  eagerly. 

"  Sure,"  supported  Phil. 

"  Wall,"  drawled  old  Dan,  thoughtfully,  "  we'd  bet- 
ter do  fust  what  we  come  in  to  do,  an'  that's  to  make 
camp  under  Warrior  Peak.  'Tain't  a  good  plan  to 
spread  out  too  thin;  an'  we've  sot  out  to  camp  an'  be 
white  Injuns.  We'll  keep  to  that,  an'  get  settled;  an' 
then  if  somethin'  else  turns  up  for  us  to  do,  we'll  do  it. 
I  always  like  to  finish  one  plan,  'fore  startin'  into  an- 
other. If  you  follow  every  side  fork,  you'll  never  cover 
the  main  trail.  An'  I've  noticed  that  these  hyar 
thieves  an'  liars  reach  the  end  o'  their  rope  without 
much  urgin'.  Like  as  not  those  two  fellows  won't 
keep  that  camp  long,  now.  Old  Four-Toes'll  prove  too 
much  for  'em.  That  one  track'll  be  enough.  A  thief 
an'  a  coyote  have  the  same  kind  o'  courage — they'll  run 
when  they  can." 

"It  was  fresh,  wasn't  it?"  asked  Chet.  "Looked 
so." 

"  Made  this  mornin',"  assured  Grizzly  Dan,  with  his 
chuckle.  "  Made  after  sun-up,  when  the  mud  had  been 
thawed  out  a  little.  So  I  reckon  the  big  b'ar  air 
travelin'  as  we  travel.  Stream  air  risin'  now,  with  the 
snow  water  from  the  hills,  an'  the  track'll  be  washed 
out  agin  'fore  night.  These  hyar  mountain  streams  all 


BAD    MEN    IN    THE    PARK  131 

rise  durin'  the  day,  when  the  sun's  at  work  on  the 
snow,  up  above,  an'  fall  durin'  the  night,  when  the 
snow  freezes.  But  ketch  up,  ketch  up;  it  air  fifteen 
miles  to  camp,  an'  fm  wolfish.  Wagh!  " 


CHAPTER  X 

WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME 

THE  traveling  had  been  bad,  before,  but  it  was  worse 
and  more  complicated  now.  The  brush  continued 
thick,  on  the  slopes  and  in  the  bottoms,  and  was  criss- 
crossed by  many  narrow  trails,  intersecting  and  con- 
fusing. But  old  Dan  rode  confidently,  and  ever  the 
outlines  of  Warrior  Peak  became  clearer. 

So  it  was  an  all-day  ride,  this,  without  eating  be- 
tween morning  and  evening;  but  if  an  eighty-year-old 
man  could  stand  it,  Phil  thought  that  a  boy  should. 
Besides,  he  and  Chet  had  made  such  rides  before. 

The  brush  seemed  deserted  by  animals,  except  rab- 
bits, and  they  were  few.  The  sun  shone  hotly  upon  the 
jungly  wilderness,  which  appeared  to  be  resting  under 
the  same  spell  that  enchanted  the  sleeping  giant. 

At  the  top  of  a  minor  ridge  halt  was  made  again, 
amidst  a  grove  of  scrub-oak  and  laurel,  as  well  as 
evergreens.  While  the  horses  breathed,  and  Betty 
the  mule  and  Cotton-tail  cropped,  and  Pepper  and 
Medicine  Eye  grunted  and  breathed,  and  Bonita  lay 
panting,  Grizzly  Dan  as  customary  sat  at  ease  in  his 
saddle,  and  looked  abroad. 

"  It  air  a  fine  country,"  he  mused. 

Far  behind,  across  a  rolling  ocean  of  brush  and  tim- 
ber, was  the  camp  of  the  beaver  poachers,  and  game 

132 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  133 

thieves ;  and  much  closer,  across  a  vale  of  more  timber, 
was  Warrior  Peak,  the  upturned  toes  of  the  slumbering 
guardian  being  directly  opposite.  There  he  lay  upon 
his  lofty  scarred  and  weather-beaten  bier,  until  the 
hoped-for  call  should  arouse  him  to  action.  Fleecy 
clouds  swept  his  face,  but  they  stirred  him  not. 

"  It  war  a  fine  country,  anyhow,"  continued  Grizzly 
Dan,  "  'fore  game  hawgs  got  into  it.  An',"  he  added, 
as  if  apologizing  for  his  deprecating  remark,  "  it  air 
a  fine  country  yet.  But  thar's  somethin'  wrong.  Did 
'ee  notice,  boys?  Thar  war  not  a  fresh  track  nor  a 
sight  o'  runnin'  meat  in  all  that  thar  brush?  No,  not 
a  fresh  track !  " 

"  Didn't  see  even  a  wild  cow,  did  we !  "  supplemented 
Chet. 

And  the  peculiar  fact  dawned  upon  Phil  also. 

"  I  reckon  it  must  be  the  black  wolves,  an'  mebbe 
the  gray,  too,"  said  old  Dan.  "  But  the  black  air  the 
wust.  An'  that's  why  Four-Toes  air  travelin'  on.  See 
thar?  When  a  big  b'ar  like  him,  whose  medicine  air 
strong,  gets  down  to  doin'  that,  he  air  pretty  hard  put." 
And  Grizzly  Dan  nodded  at  one  side. 

The  boys  looked,  expectant.  An  ant-hill,  as  large  as 
a  bushel  basket,  had  been  torn  open.  The  multitude 
of  ants  were  racing  angrily  about,  covering  it.  Chet 
tumbled  from  his  horse,  and  Phil  followed  suit. 

Some  strong  paw,  armed  with  long  claws,  had  raked 
open  the  hill,  as  by  one  fell  scoop,  and  in  the  dust  was 
a  single  track :  the  naked  foot,  again,  as  of  some  enor- 
mous being,  half-human,  with  flat,  long  sole,  and  three 
short  toes,  and  a  gap,  and  then  another  toe.  No  ex- 


i34  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

clamation  was  required  from  the  two  boys,  but  they 
made  it.  Old  Dan  smiled  indulgently. 

"  I  knowed  it,"  he  responded  calmly.  "  That  b'ar 
air  headin'  same  way  we  air,  for  the  inside  country; 
an'  this  air  the  trail.  Thought  I'd  seed  his  sign,  several 
times,  in  the  brush  as  we  came  along.  He  stopped  up 
hyar  to  eat  a  few  ants — an'  when  a  big  b'ar  does  that, 
he  air  hungry.  An'  he  ain't  fur  ahead,  neither ;  those 
thar  ants  air  heap  mad,  yet.  Wagh!  Lucky  for  us 
they  ain't  big  as  he  air." 

The  horses  were  sniffing  the  atmosphere,  their  ears 
pricked,  their  nostrils  dilated,  and  even  Betty  the  mule 
paused  in  her  industrious  grazing,  to  snort  and  stare. 
Her  tail  between  her  legs,  her  fur  ruffed,  Bonita 
growled  and  slunk  against  Phil.  The  shadow  of  the 
huge  bear  seemed  to  envelope  the  place,  and  Phil  in- 
voluntarily kept  hand  upon  horn,  ready  to  vault  into 
the  saddle.  But  old  Dan  was  unperturbed. 

"  No,  he  airn't  hyar.  Betty  knows.  She's  gone  to 
foragin'  agin.  Jest  watch  my  old  mule  an'  you'll  1'arn 
all  the  news."  Sure  enough,  Betty  was  cropping,  satis- 
fied that  the  alarm  was  false.  "  'Spect  you  boys  air 
some  wolfish,  an'  so  air  I ;  but  we'd  better  push  on  for 
camp,  whar  thar's  water.  I  got  a  spring  that  can't  be 
beat." 

"Do  you  suppose  Old  Four-Toes  or  the  wolves 
cleaned  out  the  game?"  asked  Phil,  as  the  line  was 
formed  for  the  march. 

"  Wolves,  I  reckon — an'  hawgs.  I  count  people  like 
those  thar  beaver-pelt  an'  hide  thieves  wuss'n  wolves. 
But  the  black  wolves  air  in  hyar,  everybody  says,  an' 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  135 

it  doesn't  take  long  for  a  pack  o'  sech  varmints  to  cover 
a  country  an'  eat  it  up.  'Specially  after  a  hard  winter, 
like  last  winter  war,  which  leaves  critters  weak  an' 
makes  varmints  desperate.  An'  men  who'll  steal 
beaver'll  steal  anythin' — fur,  feather,  an'  hide.  But 
this  air  only  one  end  o'  Lost  Park.  Whar  you  an'  I 
an'  Old  Four-Toes  air  headin',  thar'll  be  meat  runnin'. 
But  ketch  up,  ketch  up.  Want  to  get  thar  'fore  dark." 

Down  from  the  vantage  point  they  rode,  on  the  trail 
again,  with  camp  to  make.  After  steady  travel  (so 
steady  and  so  blind,  to  all  except  the  old  trapper,  that 
Phil  must  shift  irksomely  in  the  saddle  and  wonder 
when  and  where  they  were  coming  out)  through  the 
continued  thick  growth,  just  as  the  sun  was  dropping 
behind  Red  Chief  Peak  miles  and  miles  behind  in  the 
hazy  west,  Grizzly  Dan  quickened  his  pace,  Betty  the 
mule  quickened  her  pace,  the  remainder  of  the  caval- 
cade had  to  quicken,  and  with  a  whoop  and  a  rifle  shot 
from  Grizzly  Dan,  into  a  little  park  they  all  emerged. 
Straight  across  it  charged  Grizzly  Dan,  long  rifle  held 
high,  white  locks  streaming. 

"Hiyi!    Whoop!"  he  greeted. 

"  Hi  yi !  Whoop!  "  joined  in  Chet,  flipping  his  rifle 
from  scabbard  and  firing — "  Bang!  Bang!  "  as  he  too 
galloped.  And  "Hi  yi!  Whoop!"  with  a  "Bang! 
Bang !  "  from  his  carbine,  joined  in  Phil  also,  now 
galloping  at  the  tail  of  the  lumbering  pack  animals. 

At  the  other  side  of  the  peak  Grizzly  Dan  halted  ab- 
ruptly, before  a  sagging-roofed,  dilapidated  log  cabin, 
and  was  on  the  ground.  '  That's  the  way  to  come  into 
camp,"  he  panted.  "  Hyar  we  air,  at  home.  Wagh ! 


136  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Off  packs,  unsaddle,  turn  the  critters  loose,  an'  let's 
eat.  My  old  meat-bag  air  plumb  empty  as  a  trapped- 
out  beaver  pond." 

The  camp  spot  evidently  was  perfect  for  the  purpose. 
The  timber,  dense  on  the  west  whence  they  had  come, 
here  opened  like  a  *  U/  against  the  base  of  Warrior 
Peak,  providing  a  little  park  rich  in  grass  and  flowers, 
over  which,  from  the  forest  aisles,  now  streamed  in 
long  shafts  of  golden  light  the  last  beams  of  the 
setting  sun.  The  park  was  still  warm  from  the  day's 
bounty.  Birds  twittered  among  the  near-by  pines 
and  spruces,  some  of  which  towered  gigantic  and  aged. 
And  over,  high  and  sparsely  wooded  and  stern,  rose 
Warrior  Peak,  his  toes,  now  seen  to  be  twin  knobs  with 
a  saddle  for  the  space  from  toes  to  knees,  being  directly 
above.  The  sun  shone  full  upon  them,  limning  their 
reddish-gray  outlines. 

"  This  is  swell,"  asserted  Phil,  and  he  and  Chet 
stripped  the  animals,  while  old  Dan  nimbly  prepared 
the  fire.  Chet  grunted  assent. 

As  if  showing  her  new  friends  the  sights,  Betty  the 
dun  mule  led  the  animals  off — stalking  with  conscious 
dignity  a  few  steps,  smelling  the  ground,  and  throwing 
herself  down  for  a  good  roll.  Her  associates  imitated. 
Then  all  filed  behind  her  to  another  part  of  the  park, 
where  they  drank  hesitantly  out  of  a  little  basin,  then 
separated  to  graze. 

Beside  the  old  cabin  was  a  spring,  welling  from  a 
ledge  of  the  mountain  base.  Here,  having  finished  with 
the  animals,  hastened  Chet  and  Phil,  overpowered  by 
a  sudden  thirst.  The  spring  came  bubbling  and  clear ; 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  137 

on  a  stake  near  it  hung  a  rusty  can.  Chet  seized  the 
can ;  Phil  squatted  and  plunged  in  his  hands,  as  a  cup — 
and  he  jerked  them  out  again,  mighty  quick,  at  the 
same  time  that  Chet  dropped  the  can. 

"  Wow !  "  they  exclaimed  together.    "  That's  hot !  " 

"Did  you  know?"  asked  Chet. 

"  No,  I  should  say  not !    Did  you !  " 

A  chuckle  from  Dan  apprised  them  that  he 
knew  it. 

"  Leetle  warm  ?  "  he  queried.  "  Wall,  now,  that's 
too  bad.  What  ye  goin'  to  do  about  it?  " 

"  Try  it  lower  down,"  suggested  Chet,  alertly. 
"  Come  on." 

They  tried  it  lower  down,  where  it  flowed  in  a  chan- 
nel— and  even  here  it  would  not  take  a  finger-tip! 

"  That  air  a  pity,"  quoth  old  Dan.  "  It  air  good 
water,  if  only  you  get  used  to  it.  Guess  I'll  take  an- 
other swig,  to  show  ye."  And  dipping  in  a  can  which 
he  held,  he  drank  heartily.  "  Yep,  it  shore  air  good 
water.  Cold  water  air  unhealthy,  they  say;  ain't  it? 
I've  drank  this  hyar  water  for  sixty  year,  and  I  reckon 
that's  why  I'm  still  livin' !  " 

"  Pshaw !  "  complained  Chet.  "  Well,  we'll  let  some 
cool,  till  we're  used  to  it  ourselves.  You  could  boil 
eggs  in  that!  " 

Phil  also  was  puzzled ;  and  thereupon  old  Dan  burst 
into  a  real  laugh. 

'  Yes,  it  air  a  pity,"  he  repeated.  "  You  mought  try 
down  whar  the  animiles  drank.  But  I  tell  'ee — try  it 
hyar  fust.  Take  this  canful.  Keerful,  now." 

Chet  accepted  gingerly.    He  tested — and  drank. 


138  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Jiminy,  that's  good,"  he  gasped.  "  Aw,  try  it, 
Phil.  It's  ice  cold.  Honest  it  is.  Go  ahead." 

Old  Dan  passed  over  another  canful,  and  Phil,  un- 
believing even  though  the  can  was  cold  to  the  touch, 
tested  it  with  a  ringer.  Yes,  it  certainly  felt  icy.  He 
drank,  long  and  deep.  It  was  icy,  pungent  and  tickling, 
and  never  did  a  draught  taste  so  delicious.  It  tasted 
even  better  than  had  the  water  upon  the  hilltop,  above 
the  station,  when  he  and  Chet  had  set  out  from  the 
railroad.  But — what  was  the  secret  of  this  sudden 
change  from  hot  to  cold? 

"  I'll  tell  'ee,"  proffered  old  Dan,  much  gratified  by 
the  success  of  his  joke.  "  Thar  air  two  springs  in 
this  white  Injun  camp.  You  look  an'  you'll  see.  Thar 
air  one  spring,  hyar,  whar  you  fust  tried.  She  air 
hot.  But  you  dip  whar  this  other  water  comes  out, 
right  'longside,  an'  she  air  cold.  That's  all.  Now,  I 
call  that  heap  medicine,  don't  you?  It  air  heap  medi- 
cine like  those  thar  blue  an'  yaller  lakes.  This  hyar 
cold  spring  air  a  gas  spring,  mixed  with  iron  an'  sul- 
phur. That  thar  hot  spring  air  a  gas  spring,  too,  but 
it  ain't  got  the  sulphur.  What  that  black  stain  is,  I 
don't  know.  Down  below  in  that  thar  pool  whar  the 
critters  drank,  the  two  springs  air  mixed,  an'  it  air 
a  powerful  fine  bathin'  place,  winter  an'  summer. 
Didn't  I  promise  you  I  had  a  boss  camp  waitin'  ?  Cold 
water  for  drinkin',  an'  water  already  cooked,  for  the 
pot!  An'  free  bathin',  whar  it  ain't  too  hot  nor  too 
cold !  Wagh !  But  I  air  glad  to  be  back  agin." 

He  was  rummaging  about,  muttering  and  wagging 
his  shaggy  head.  The  boys  investigated.  They  found 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  139 

things  exactly  as  he  had  stated.  Instead  of  there  being 
the  one  spring,  there  were  the  two,  only  a  foot  apart, 
apparently  the  same  spring,  but  flowing  with  different 
water  down  two  parallel  channels,  through  the  brush, 
forming  little  twists  and  pools,  until  they  joined  and 
continued  on  into  the  larger  pool  where  the  animals,  led 
by  wise  Betty  the  mule,  had  drunk.  The  temperature 
of  the  pool  was  blood  warm. 

"  You  could  keep  butter  in  one  spring,  and  boil  eggs 
in  the  other,"  suggested  Phil. 

"Yes;  it  air  all  thar  but  the  butter  an'  the 
eggs.  Plenty  water,"  responded  old  Dan.  And — 
"Hooray!"  he  continued,  rejoiced,  "cache  air  hyar, 
too,  jest  as  I  left  it  a  year  ago.  Nobody's  teched  it. 
I  war  afraid,  after  seein'  those  thar  game  thieves,  that 
nothin'  would  be  safe  any  more.  Wagh !  "  and  he 
wagged  his  head,  "  now  we're  fixed,  heap  fixed."  He 
had  opened  a  cave,  under  a  ledge.  The  mouth  of  it 
had  been  cleverly  concealed  by  a  slab  of  stone,  and  by 
branches  and  soil  and  dried  needles  of  spruces;  from 
the  cave  hole  he  was  dragging  various  articles — a  brass 
kettle,  battered  and  sooted,  a  huge  roll  of  what  ap- 
peared to  be  buckskin,  another  big  roll  of  pelts,  tanned, 
a  red  canister  of  powder,  a  bunch  of  moccasins,  and 
more  traps,  and  a  box  of  packages.  Having  delved 
into  these,  fondly  counting  them  over,  and  probably 
checking  them  off,  while  the  boys  watched  curiously, 
he  abruptly  let  them  lie,  and  with  a  last  chuckle  of 
good-humor  turned  his  attention  again  to  a  more  im- 
portant matter — supper. 

The  fire  was  burning  briskly  in  an  improvised  and 


I4o  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

much-used  fireplace  made  of  flat  stones  plastered  with 
mud  for  the  sides,  rusted  sheets  of  metal  for  the  top, 
and  a  short  pipe,  by  its  battered  appearance  evidently 
rescued  from  some  neglected  camp  elsewhere,  for  vent 
and  draught. 

"  Doesn't  take  much  to  start  that  'ere  hot-spring 
water  to  bilin',"  explained  old  Dan.  "  Whar's  the 
meat?  We'll  cut  her  into  hunks.  An'  you  boys  can 
be  pickin'  out  yore  beddin'  for  yore  bunks.  You'll 
find  it  in  that  thar  roll  o'  pelts.  Wagh !  "  he  ejaculated, 
as  he  hauled  from  its  covering  the  meat  obtained  at  the 
beaver  poachers'  camp.  "  Wagh !  Wild  beef,  they 
call  this  ?  It  air  the  wildest  beef  you  ever  saw.  Can't 
fool  this  coon.  This  air — what  you  s'pose?" 

"Sheep,  isn't  it?"  guessed  Chet. 

"Elk!"  guessed  Phil. 

"  Wagh !  "  was  muttering  the  old  trapper,  as  he  cut 
off  a  small  piece  with  his  knife  and  scrutinized  it 
closely.  "  Wagh !  Can't  fool  this  coon.  He  knows 
meat  when  he  sees  it,  he  do!  This  air  cow,  mebbe — 
but  it  air  a  cow  that  never  war  branded." 

"  Maverick,"  said  Chet. 

"  Maverick,  an'  more'n  a  maverick,  boy,"  assured 
old  Dan,  earnestly.  "  It  war  a  cow  with  wool.  If  this 
ain't  buff'ler  meat,  then  I'm  a  hos.  That's  what  it  air 
— buff'ler  meat,  an'  a  hump  roast  at  that.  Wagh !  Do 
'ee  hear  what  I'm  sayin'  ? " 

"How'd  they  get  it?"  exclaimed  Phil,  excited. 
•';  Are  there  buffalo  running  wild  in  here  ?  " 

"  Of  course  there  are.  Didn't  I  tell  you?  "  corrected 
Chet. 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  141 

"  How'd  they  get  it  ?  Butchered  it,  boy ;  stole  it — 
like  sech  Injuns'll  steal  any  thin'  that  runs  or  flies  or 
swims.  Yes,  thar  air  buff 'ler  in  hyar ;  that  is,  thar  war, 
last  year.  Thar  war  two;  jest  two:  an  old  bull  an' 
a  youngish  cow.  Used  to  be  quite  a  bunch,  but  wolves 
an'  other  varmint,  human  an'  unhuman,  and  weather, 
has  been  killin'  'em  off." 

"  It's  against  the  law  to  kill  buffalo.  There's  a  big 
fine  for  it,"  asserted  diet.  "These  were  about  the 
only  wild  buffalo  in  the  country,  too.  I've  always 
heard  there  were  some  buffalo  left  in  Lost  Park." 

"  Sartin  it's  agin  the  law,"  agreed  old  Dan.  "  I've 
been  watchin'  these  hyar  critters  for  twenty  year.  I 
used  to  kill  one  or  two  a  year,  when  it  war  allowed  for 
meat ;  then  I  quit.  Now,"  he  said  mournfully,  "  these 
human  varmints  air  killin'  'em  anyhow.  Wagh,  but 
it  air  a  shameful  thing.  That's  the  way,  though:  the 
scurcer  things  get,  the  more  anxious  some  folks  air  to 
hunt  'em  out  an'  make  'em  scurcer.  It's  agin  the  law 
to  eat  this  meat,  too,  I  reckon ;  but  we'll  have  to  do  it. 
I  'spect  those  thar  pelt  thieves  found  this  cow,  pore  tho' 
she  war  after  the  winter,  an'  killed  her,  an'  now  they 
air  glad  to  get  rid  o'  the  meat  'fore  anybody  ketches 
'em  with  it.  They  sized  us  up  as  not  knowin'  buff'ler 
flesh — when  I've  et  buff'ler  meat  for  nigh  fifty  year." 
And  old  Dan  chuckled,  in  his  indignation.  '  'Spect 
the  hide  war  'round  that  same  camp  somewheres, 
cached  away.  But  hyar  goes  to  pot;  an'  you  can  say 
that  you've  et  the  best  meat  in  the  world,  for  onct  in 
yore  life." 

So  saying,  old  Dan,  who  had  been  working  over  the 


I42  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

chunk,  cutting  it  into  several  pieces,  dropped  it  all  into 
the  bubbling  pot. 

"  Now  there's  only  the  old  bull  left,  then?  "  queried 
Phil. 

"  If  nobody's  butchered  him,  too.  He  air  so  old 
only  his  hide  air  good  for  anything,  to  make  lodge- 
covers  of,  or  bull  boats  or  moccasin  soles,  or  shields. 
These  ain't  the  reg'lar  plains  bufFler  in  hyar,  anyhow. 
They  air  what  we  call  mountain  bison — a  critter  a  good 
bit  smaller,  with  hair  a  bit  darker.  I'm  thinkin'  they 
air  jest  plains  bufFler  drove  back  into  the  hills,  an'  bred 
to  conditions,  like  a  long-horn  cow  grows  to  short 
horns  after  she's  lived  in  the  timber  awhile.  But 
bufFler  meat  air  bufFler  meat,  as  you'll  find  out. 
Wagh !  Why  ain't  you  pickin'  out  yore  beddin',  as  I 
told  ye?" 

So  Chet  and  Phil  bent  to  the  interrupted  work.  The 
roll  of  pelts  had  been  kept  together  by  a  buckskin  thong. 
This  they  untied,  and  the  roll  fell  apart.  Simultane- 
ously they  cried  out  with  wonder  as  they  laid  off  pelt 
after  pelt :  a  mountain  lion  pelt,  a  bear  pelt,  bobcat 
pelts,  lynx  pelts,  pelt  of  gray  wolf,  of  coyote,  of  animals 
hard  to  name,  and  all  satiny  and  flexible,  with  the  fur 
soft  and  warm.  The  last,  enveloping  because  the 
largest,  was  a  wide,  shaggy  pelt,  rich  brown,  curly, 
heavy — a  buffalo  robe  tanned  with  the  hair  on ! 

"  Gee !  "  whispered  Chet,  admiringly,  but  not  daring 
to  say  much.  "  See  this  ?  More  buffalo !  " 

Phil  nodded. 

The  old  trapper  had  heard,  and  he  guessed  what  was 
unsaid. 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  143 

"  Needn't  spare  my  feelin's,"  he  chuckled.  "  Sar- 
tin,  it  air  a  buff'ler  robe,  an'  a  cow  robe  at  that.  But 
the  animile  war  killed  'fore  you  war  born,  either  o' 
ye,  an'  I  got  it  of  a  Cheyenne  chief.  It  air  Cheyenne- 
dressed;  the  Cheyenne  an'  Ute  squaws  war  the  best 
dressers  o'  skins,  an'  an  Injun-dressed  skin  air  better'n 
white-man-dressed.  Yep,  I  got  that  of  a  Cheyenne, 
twenty  year  ago.  Undo  that  t'other  bundle,  an'  I'll 
show  ye  somethin'  else — another  kind  o'  bufFler  robe, 
dressed  on  both  sides." 

So  they  untied  the  roll  of  buckskins,  or  what  ap- 
peared to  be  buckskins.  It  contained  a  number  of  the 
skins,  bleached  and  scraped  and  free  of  hair,  some  of 
them  as  velvety  as  chamois-skin  sold  in  drug-stores  for 
polishing;  and  as  in  the  first  roll,  the  enveloping  hide 
was  wide  and  thick — but  in  this  case  snowy  white, 
smooth,  and  embroidered  with  colored  beads,  red  and 
blue,  and  with  red  and  blue  porcupine  quills,  in  tasteful 
designs. 

"  Buffalo  hide,  again,"  hazarded  Phil.    "  Isn't  it?  " 

"  That's  a  'Rapahoe  robe,  boy,"  instructed  old  Dan. 
"  OfFn  a  young  bull,  I  reckon.  Some  squaw  worked 
on  that  for  a  month,  soakin'  it  an'  scrapin'  it,  an' 
bleachin'  it,  an'  puttin'  in  those  thar  designs.  That 
robe  war  wuth  a  pony;  to-day  it  air  wuth  a  hundred 
dollars,  or  more.  I  got  it  in  Sixty-seven.  Some  o' 
those  others  air  buckskin,  some  air  doeskin,  wuth  a 
leetle  money ;  but  that  'ere  buff 'ler  robe,  squaw-dressed 
an'  bleached  an'  embroidered,  never'll  grow  agin,  in 
this  world.  Yet  I've  seen  thirty  o'  sech  robes,  leetle 
heavier,  mebbe,  stitched  together  for  a  lodge-cover ;  an* 


144  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

I've  seen  a  hundred  lodges,  that  kind,  pitched  in  a 
bunch  an'  lookin'  like  a  patch  o'  snow.  I've  sort  o' 
saved  this  stuff,  an'  cached  it  away — don't  know  why. 
But  do  'ee  think  you  can  find  beddin'  'mongst  it  ?  " 

"  It's  too  good  for  bedding,"  declared  Chet,  soberly, 
as  he  and  Phil  fingered  the  rich  pelts  and  robes. 
"  Blankets  are  enough." 

"No,  sir,"  chuckled  old  Dan.  "This  air  white 
Injun  camp,  an'  we'll  live  high,  whilst  we  live.  It 
air  my  last  season  in  the  mountains;  I  air  old,  an' 
the  country  air  gettin'  away  from  me,  an'  I  can't  use 
these  hyar  things  when  I  cross  the  last  divide.  We'll 
use  'em,  an'  enjoy  'em,  now.  Make  your  ch'ice;  an' 
what  we  don't  sleep  under  we'll  walk  over,  so's  not  to 
ketch  cold.  Wagh !  What  air  a  few  pieces  o'  fur  ?  " 

So,  to  please  him,  and  tempted  mightily  themselves, 
they  laid  aside  some  of  the  skins :  a  glossy  black-bear 
skin,  two  big  gray-wolf  skins,  and  a  lion  skin 

"  Hyar !  "  interposed  old  Dan,  who  evidently  had 
been  watching,  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  "  What's 
the  matter?  Didn't  I  tell  'ee  to  get  beddin'?  " 

"  We  have,"  answered  Phil.    "  Isn't  this  all  right?  " 

"  Beddin !  "  snorted  old  Dan,  striding  to  them  from 
the  fire.  "  I'll  show  'ee."  And  he  recklessly  threw 
out  skins.  "  Thar — you  sleep  on  them,  an'  pull  that 
thar  bufFler  robe  with  the  wool  on  it  over  you.  That 
other  warn't  a  bed ;  it  warn't  fit  for  a  dawg." 

"  We  left  the  buffalo  robe  for  you,"  Phil  and  Chet 
explained. 

Old  Dan  had  returned  to  his  fire,  grumbling.  "  That 
chief's  robe  air  enough  for  me,  ain't  it?  An*  thar's 


WHITE    INJUNS    AT    HOME  145 

plenty  skins  for  all.  Pack  'em  in  to  the  bunk,  an'  we'll 
eat.  Wagh,  but  I  air  wolfish.  My  belt's  at  its  last 
hole,  an'  fat  meat  air  in  the  pot — or  kinder  fat,  that  is." 

Sitting  around  the  fire,  they  ate  hugely.  The  buf- 
falo stew  tasted  not  unlike  beef;  and  Phil  had  to  re- 
mind himself  all  the  time  that  he  was  feasting  on 
buffalo — a  rare  dainty — and  not  on  cow  or  steer. 

Chet  mumbled  appreciation;  and  they  both  assured 
the  old  mountain-man  that  the  supper  was  "  great." 
So  it  was.  After  Dan  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  the 
dishes  had  been  cleaned,  and  firewood  piled  for  the 
night  and  for  the  morning,  they  put  the  shack  in  shape. 
Their  light  was  a  blazing  slice  of  fat  which  Dan  had 
mysteriously  produced,  propped  in  a  tin  dish. 

Such  beds!  The  interior  of  the  log  shack  was 
furnished  with  a  rude  stool  or  two,  an  equally  rude 
table  manufactured  from  rough-hewn  slabs  for  a  top 
and  crooked  branches  for  legs,  and  two  bunks,  which 
were  only  boxes  with  low  sides,  on  the  floor,  head  to 
foot  against  the  wall.  These  still  contained  a  layer 
of  dried  boughs  of  spruce  and  pine.  In  their  own  bunk 
the  boys  spread  their  blankets,  and  upon  them  about  a 
foot  of  furs,  massed  at  one  end  for  a  cushion,  and  at 
the  other  for  a  pillow.  Old  Dan  prepared  his  own 
bunk,  adjoining,  in  similar  fashion;  and  upon  the 
earthen  floor,  hard-beaten  by  long  usage,  incited  by  the 
trapper  they  strewed  other  furs,  to  make  a  series  of 
rugs  fit  for  a  king. 

The  night  had  fallen  black  and  chill ;  over  the  timber 
and  over  dim  Warrior  Peak  the  stars  were  shining,  as 
they  had  shone  through  ages  uncounted.  Grizzly  Dan 


I46  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

yawned ;  the  boys  yawned.  It  was  bed-time.  So  they 
crawled  in.  Sinking  luxuriously  among  the  furs  of 
their  unique  mattress,  Chet  pulled  the  buffalo  robe  over 
him  and  Phil.  What  a  bed !  The  embroidered  robe, 
over  the  form  of  the  old  trapper,  gleamed  white  and 
spectral.  Outside  flickered  the  fire,  with  the  pot  for 
breakfast  simmering  where  it  was  set  deep  into  the 
coals. 

Bonita  slipped  into  the  cabin  and  curled  up  on  the 
buffalo  robe,  at  the  boys'  feet.  She  would  not  stir  till 
morning. 

Yes,  this  was  luxury,  and  being  white  Injun  with 
pleasure. 


CHAPTER  XI 


THE  TRAPPERS'  HOUNDS  VISIT  CAMP 


PHIL  was  awakened  by  Bonita  whining.  The  door 
of  the  cabin  had  been  pulled  to,  and  fastened  by  a  staple, 
for  air  in  plenty  wafted  freely  through  the  chinking 
and  high  unshuttered  window,  and  down  the  chimney, 
whereas  an  open  door  invited  porcupines,  pole-cats,  and 
other  inquisitive  prowlers. 

The  cabin  was  pitch  dark,  as  if  the  moon  had  not 
risen  or  as  if  the  sky  might  be  overcast  with  clouds. 
Bonita  was  whining;  she  had  left  her  post  upon  the 
foot  of  the  bunk  (her  weight  was  gone  therefrom)  and 
by  the  sound  she  was  at  the  door.  Phil  lay  blinking, 
confused,  only  half  aroused,  trying  to  connect  the  past 
with  the  present,  and  meanwhile  annoyed  by  her  whin- 
ing. 

"  Wheet! "  he  whistled,  softly  as  possible.  "  Come 
here!" 

Bonita  pattered  across;  her  fore  feet  pressed  the 
edge  of  the  bunk,  and  back  she  went  again,  to  whine 
more. 

"Shut  up,  Bonita!  Lie  down!  Come  here!" 
whispered  Phil. 

She  whined ;  and  as  if  betokening  the  cause,  outside 
the  cabin  was  an  answering  whine,  and  the  "  sniff, 
sniff !  "  of  a  nose.  Then  there  was  a  brushy  patter  of 

147 


148  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

furry  pads,  as  something  passed  around  against  the 
cabin  walls. 

"  What  is  it,  Bonita?  "  asked  Phil,  interested. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you-all?  Go  to  sleep," 
grumbled  Chet.  He  too  had  been  awakened  and  thus 
sleepily  protested. 

"  Bonita  wants  to  get  out.  There's  something  out- 
side." 

"  I'm  not  going  to  get  up  and  let  her  out,"  mumbled 
Chet.  "  Go  to  sleep." 

"  List — "  began  Phil ;  but  he  did  not  finish,  for  his 
warning  was  unnecessary.  They  could  not  help  but 
listen,  as  from  the  near  timber,  apparently  within 
stone's  throw  of  the  cabin,  welled  long  and  mournful 
and  penetrating  the  howl  of  a  wolf. 

"  Ow-ow-ow-ooooo-ow-ow-ooooooooooo-ooooooo !  " 
it  pealed,  rising  and  falling,  wailing  like  a  calliope; 
and  joined  in  the  voices  of  others,  until  the  air 
fairly  vibrated  with  the  call  of  the  gaunt,  wild 
pack. 

It  was  repeated ;  and  under  the  covering  of  buffalo- 
robe  the  boys  involuntarily  joined  hands. 

"Hark!  Do  'ee  hear  that!"  from  his  bunk  pro- 
tested old  Dan.  "  Thar  they  be.  Thar  be  the  trappers' 
hounds." 

Bonita  was  growling ;  but  presently  her  whining  be- 
gan again  and  she  could  be  heard  pawing  at  the  door. 
And  now  the  horses,  somewhere  abroad,  were  snort- 
ing. 

"  Shall  I  let  her  out?  "  asked  Phil.  "  She's  liable 
to  get  killed." 


THE    TRAPPERS'    HOUNDS  149 

"  Let  her  out,  let  her  out,"  bade  old  Dan.  "  Do  'ee 
s'pose  we  want  to  be  pestered  by  her  all  the  night? 
Let  her  out  an'  leave  the  door  ajar." 

Again  welled  the  long  howl,  farther  off;  and  again 
there  were  the  whimpering  and  the  scratchy  trotting 
just  upon  the  other  side  of  the  logs. 

"  Some  o'  the  varmints  air  scoutin'  'round  hyar  too 
close,"  complained  old  Dan.  "  If  they  go  spilin'  my 
cache  thar'll  be  trouble.  Wait  a  bit,  now,  till  I  find 
a  match."  And  he  grunted  as  he  moved  about.  He 
lighted  the  piece  of  fat,  and  holding  it,  threw  open  the 
door  abruptly  and  tossed  the  torch  out  kito  the  night. 
It  fell,  flaring,  and  continued  to  blaze  after  it  landed. 
A  rustle  sounded;  straining,  sitting  up  in  his  bunk, 
Phil  thought  that  he  glimpsed  a  slinking  shape  and  a 
pair  of  coldly  glinting  eyes,  amidst  the  dimly  outlined 
background.  He  was  certain  that  he  saw  Bonita  slip 
across  the  threshold  and  disappear  around  the  corner  of 
the  door. 

"  Black  hounds,  this  time,"  observed  old  Dan,  stand- 
ing fully  exposed  and  careless,  as  he  peered  forth. 
"  Thar  air  yore  black  wolves,  boys.  I  saw  two.  An' 
yore  dawg's  gone." 

"  Shucks !  "  bemoaned  Phil ;  and  he  whistled,  Chet 
helping.  But  although  he  whistled  and  called  from 
the  threshold,  into  the  night  where  the  blazing  fat  had 
faded  and  died  and  where  darkness  had  again  settled 
close,  no  Bonita  responded.  The  horses,  however,  con- 
tinued to  snort. 

"  She'll  come,"  comforted  old  Dan,  back  in  his  bunk. 
"  Leave  the  door  ajar  an'  she'll  come.  Let  her  be." 


ISO  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

So,  reluctantly,  Phil  obeyed,  and  crept  in  beside 
Chet  upon  the  soft  furs,  under  the  buffalo  robe. 

"  Black  wolves  they  be,"  reasserted  old  Dan.  "  But 
we  won't  stand  any  nonsense  from  'em.  If  they  want 
to  clean  up  our  camp  for  us  as  decent  wolves  should, 
all  right  an'  proper;  but  they  got  to  let  valuables 
alone,  or  we'll  have  to  1'arn  'em.  Don't  like  these 
hyar  black  foreign  wolves,  anyhow.  They  ain't  got 


manners." 


Thus  mumbling,  he  lapsed  into  a  snore;  Chet 
gurgled  significantly  as  if  he,  too,  were  resuming  his 
interrupted  snooze;  and  Phil,  after  trying  to  keep 
awake  until  the  return  of  Bonita,  joined  the  majority. 
The  pattering  and  sniffing  outside  had  ceased;  the 
howling  had  ceased;  the  snorts  had  ceased;  and  the 
cabin  was  surrendered  to  its  occupants,  and  the  night. 
Up  over  Warrior  Peak  slowly  drifted  the  remnant  of 
a  moon. 

Naturally,  the  boys'  first  thought,  upon  awakening 
to  day,  was  Bonita.  No  Bonita  was  curled  up  on  the 
bed.  Phil  rolled  out,  and  in  his  bare  feet  (to  which 
the  furs  of  the  floor  felt  good)  trudged  for  the  door. 
No  Bonita  was  in  sight,  asleep  by  the  apparently  life- 
less stove,  or  nosing  about  in  the  park;  and  to  his 
whistle  no  Bonita  came.  The  world,  despite  the  fresh 
beauty  of  the  brush  and  the  timber  and  the  pink  sky, 
looked  very  empty. 

"  She'll  come  back — unless  she  air  changed  into 
some  medicine  animile,"  quoth  old  Dan,  noting  Phil's 
endeavor.  "  Hos  guard  out !  "  he  reminded.  "  Fust 
thing  for  white  Injuns  in  camp  to  do  air  to  round  up 


THE    TRAPPERS'    HOUNDS  151 

the  stock  an'  circle  for  hostile  sign."  And  he  chuckled. 
"  Beaver  traps  ought  to  be  run,  too,  'arly — but  I 
reckon  'tain't  necessary  this  mornin'.  See  hyar,"  he 
continued,  as  he  observed  the  boys  dressing, — a  simple 
matter  requiring  only  the  donning  of  trousers  and 
shoes  and  stockings  and  boots — "why  don't  'ee  lay 
aside  them  store  clothes  an'  rig  yoreselves  proper? 
Thar's  the  shirt  an'  leggins  in  that  bundle,  an'  thar  air 
moccasins  plenty." 

"  But  you'll  want  to  wear  them  sometime,  won't 
you?  "  spoke  Phil. 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  clothes  we  have? 
They'll  do,"  spoke  Chet. 

This  of  course  was  politeness;  for  who  would  not 
prefer  buckskin  to  jeans  or  overalls! 

"  Buckskin,  boy,  buckskin,"  insisted  old  Dan. 
"  Leggins,  shirt,  an'  moccasins — that  air  the  garb  for 
white  Injuns.  That  air  what  the  red  Injun  wore,  an* 
what  he  found  the  best.  When  you  air  in  a  country, 
act  'cordin'  to  it,  way  the  natives  do.  They  know. 
Help  yoreselves.  I  got  more  possibles  than  I'll  ever 
use.  Besides,  I  made  those  thar  suits  specially  for  you. 
They  air  too  small  for  me.  Want  'em?  " 

"  Sure !  "  and  the  two  boys  jumped  for  the  bun- 
dle. 

There  was  not  much  choice  between  the  two  suits. 
Phil  donned  a  pair  of  leggins  with  red  thongs  along  the 
seam,  and  embroidered  with  blue  porcupine  quills  down 
the  thigh,  and  took  the  shirt  that  matched,  diet's 
leggins  and  shirt  were  likewise  red-thonged,  but  were 
embroidered  with  yellow  porcupine  quills.  The  moo 


152  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

casins  were  plain,  except  for  a  small  design  over  the 
instep,  in  red  and  blue  beads.  The  soles  were  stiff, 
and  the  uppers  were  like  a  high  slipper.  The  suits  were 
about  the  same  size ;  but  there  were  moccasins  enough 
to  accommodate  almost  any  feet. 

"Feel  queer?"  asked  old  Dan,  his  eyes  twinkling. 
"  Will,  at  fust.  But  you'll  get  used  to  'em." 

"  Feel  loose  and  light,"  suggested  Phil,  strutting 
about,  with  Chet  seconding. 

"  Moccasins'll  tire  ye  for  a  bit,  'cause  you've  been 
havin'  yore  feet  helped  out  by  stiff  leather.  But 
you'll  walk  easier  in  'em,  an'  you'll  1'arn  to  ride  in  'em, 
too.  Elk  hide  makes  a  stout  shirt,  but  it  air  porous  an' 
gets  soggy.  That  thar  buckskin  air  smoke-tanned, 
through  an*  through.  When  it  gets  wet,  rub  it  with 
yore  hands  while  it's  dryin',  an'  it'll  come  out  soft 
as  ever.  Wagh !  Now  you're  fixed.  Four-Toes  won't 
object  to  'ee.  Brush  won't  ketch  on  'ee,  an'  you  can 
walk  through  the  timber  an'  never  crack  a  stick. 
Moccasins  air  cheap  for  the  makin'.  When  you  air 
dryin'  one  pair,  you  can  be  wearin'  another.  But 
they'll  tire  yore  toes,  at  fust.  Those  air  Crow  moc- 
casins, in  shape." 

"  Did  you  make  the  whole  outfit,  Dan?"  queried 
Phil. 

"  Sartin.  Thought  mebbe  you'd  need  somethin'  o' 
the  kind,  if  you  took  the  trail  with  me  this  summer ;  so 
I  made  'em  last  winter.  Had  nothin'  else  to  do. 
Winter  air  the  time  when  the  mountain  man  fixes  over 
his  possibles.  Wagh!  That  embroidery  air  squaw 
Work,  but  I  ain't  got  a  squaw,  so  I  do  it  myself.  Now 


THE    TRAPPERS'    HOUNDS  153 

you  ought  to  have  a  hat  out  o'  she-beaver  or  beaver-pup 
skin;  but  you  can  tie  a  'kerchief  'round  yore  head. 
That  air  white  Injun  way." 

"  Jiminy !  These  are  fine,  though !  "  praised  Chet, 
prancing  lightly. 

"  Wall ;  hos  guard  out,"  reminded  old  Dan  again ; 
"  keep  yore  eye  an'  ear  peeled  for  Blackfeet  or  Sioux. 
They  used  to  come  in  hyar,  for  plunder.  But,"  he 
added  in  an  undertone,  "  they  don't  now." 

The  buckskin  garments,  over  woolen  shirt  and 
underclothing,  sat  light  and  cool  and  flexible ;  and,  as 
Phil  well  knew  from  hearsay,  they  would  be  wind- 
proof  and  everlasting.  As  with  Chet  he  sallied  forth, 
carbine  in  hand  (precaution  against  the  mythical 
"hostiles"),  into  the  grass,  the  cold  dew  which  had 
gathered  over  night  tickled  his  ankles ;  and  through  the 
open  places  at  his  hips,  where  the  flaps  of  the  leggins 
did  not  meet,  the  breeze  wandered.  But  this  was  liv- 
ing !  This  was  great !  And  when  the  fresh  air  of  the 
park  and  timber  permeated  his  lungs,  and  over  the  out- 
stretched figure  of  Warrior  Peak,  dusky  and  purplish 
above,  the  pink  glow  of  the  rising  sun  streamed 
glorious,  he  drew  another  deep  breath  of  keen  delight. 
He  felt  as  though  he  could  walk  at  top  speed  for  twenty 
miles. 

White  Injuns  in  very  truth  were  they  now,  thanks  to 
Grizzly  Dan. 

Separating  to  right  and  left,  he  and  Chet  made  the 
prescribed  circuit  of  the  park;  keeping  just  back  in  the 
timber,  and  examining  the  park  and  the  timber  reaches, 
both.  The  four  horses,  with  attentive  eye  and  ear  upon 


154  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Betty  the  dun  mule,  whom  they  much  respected,  were 
quietly  grazing. 

Phil  occasionally  whistled  softly  and  chirruped  for 
Bonita;  but  no  Bonita  came.  He  saw  Chet  emerge, 
across — a  picturesque  figure  (like  himself)  in  the 
trapper  costume,  brand-new  but  fashioned  for  business 
by  hands  that  knew  how  and  what — and  he  saw  Chet 
beckon  to  him.  So  on  he  went,  in  the  circuit.  Chet 
was  standing  by  the  little  reservoir  where  the  waters 
of  the  two  springs  mingled  in  the  pool,  set  where  a 
slight  outcrop  of  rock  made  a  basin  amidst  the  brush 
and  flowers.  Here  stood  a  single  red  spruce. 

"  Saw  quite  a  lot  of  wolf  tracks  back  nearer  the 
cabin,  where  the  springs  make  the  ground  wet,"  in- 
formed Chet.  "  Don't  see  any  here,  though." 

"  No,"  agreed  Phil,  also  examining,  wisely,  as  he 
stalked  about  the  spot.  But  he  caught  his  breath,  with 
sudden  shock,  and  stopped  short.  "  Look !  I  know 
why !  Look !  "  he  cried,  impulsively  cocking  his  car- 
bine. 

The  click  of  Chet's  rifle-lock  sounded  at  once,  and 
he  came  forward.  "  Where?  " 

"  There !  That  same  old  bear — Four-Toes,  isn't 
it?" 

The  customary  single  track — imprint  of  a  huge  flat 
sole — was  pressed  into  a  patch  of  sand  at  the  pool's 
edge  here.  The  edge  was  upon  the  timber  side,  and 
both  boys  glanced  quickly  and  apprehensively  back  at 
the  fringe  of  forest.  But  it  lay  peaceful  in  the  first 
beams  of  the  morning  sun;  and  Betty  the  mule  was 
grazing  near  it. 


THE   TRAPPERS'    HOUNDS  155 

"  Seems  like  that  Four-Toes  bear  has  only  one 
leg,"  communed  Chet.  "  Shore  must  be  a  medicine 
bear!" 

"  Traveling  through,  I  reckon,  and  stopped  for  a 
drink,"  reasoned  Phil.  "  See  that?  He  was  here  after 
the  hawsses  drank,  last  evening.  He  stepped  right  on 
top  of  a  hoof  mark." 

"  Now  they're  coming  to  drink,  themselves,"  in- 
formed Chet.  "  They've  seen  us  here,  and  they  know 
it's  all  right.  They  were  afraid  before.  That  old 
mule's  wise,  isn't  she !  " 

"  She  shore  is,"  agreed  Phil.  "  And  the  wolves 
were  afraid,  too.  This  was  Four-Toes'  pool.  Don't 
savvy  why  he  didn't  eat  a  horse  or  so.  Maybe  he  ate 
Bonita." 

"  Naw,"  denied  Chet.  "  She  can  keep  out  of  his 
way,  and  so  did  the  hawsses.  But  we  heard  'em  snort*- 
ing,  remember.  A  bear  won't  take  after  a  hawss, 
much;  lions  do,  though.  Remember  that  one  we 
killed,  after  it  had  killed  the  chestnut  yearling?  " 

"  I  shore  do,"  replied  Phil. 

"  We'd  better  go  back  to  camp  and  tell  old  Dan," 
suggested  Chet,  striking  off.  "  Say,  if  you  walk 
straight-foot  in  these  moccasins  they  don't  tire  you  so 
much.  Then  you  get  purchase  with  your  toes.  How 
you  like  'em?  " 

"  Feel  as  if  I  was  wearing  slippers  or  tennis  shoes. 
But  they're  great,  just  the  same." 

Old  Dan  was  pottering  about  the  fire,  outside,  get- 
ting breakfast.  He  scarcely  looked  up  as  the  boys, 
almost  noiseless  in  their  soft  footgear,  walking 


156  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

straight-footed,  approached,  Phil  behind  Chet,  across 
the  park. 

"  All  quiet,  but  there's  a  big  bear-track  in  the  edge 
of  the  pool,"  reported  Chet.  "  We  think  it's  Old  Four- 
Toes  again." 

"  Do  'ee,  now  ?  "  responded  Grizzly  Dan,  unmoved. 
"  Mebbe  so.  But  lookee  hyar,  will  you !  Those  thar 
pesky  wolves  'most  spiled  our  breakfast,  they  did. 
Sech  black  varmint  I  won't  stand  for,  anyhow.  They 
got  no  manners." 

"What'd  they  do?" 

"  Do !  They  warn't  content  with  what  scraps  war 
lying  round,  but  they  must  root  at  this  hyar  pot  an' 
shake  the  kivver  loose  an*  let  ashes  in ;  an'  they  chawed 
a  piece  o'  good  buckskin  I  left  out.  I  tell  'ee,  won't 
stand  for  it.  Thar's  traps  to  be  set,  this  night;  thar 
air!  Sech  doin's  don't  shine  with  this  coon,  they 
don't."  And  old  Dan  continued  to  wag  his  shaggy 
head,  and  mutter,  much  incensed. 

"  Perhaps  the  bear  did  it." 

"  He  ?  No.  Old  Four-Toes  has  got  some  sense,  he 
has.  Saw  his  track,  did  you?" 

"  Looked  like  the  same  track,  anyway,"  asserted 
Phil. 

"  Reckon  it  war,  reckon  it  war,"  said  Grizzly  Dan, 
straightening.  "  He  passes  through  hyar,  an'  drinks 
out  o'  that  medicine  pool.  Sartin  he  do.  An'  thar  he 
be,  now,  yonder;  see  him?  "  And  old  Dan  nodded  in 
the  direction  of  the  mountain-side. 

"Where!"  Phil  and  Chet  stared,  breathless. 

"  On  that  thar  p'int  o'  rock,  settin',"  directed  the  old 


THE    TRAPPERS'    HOUNDS  157 

trapper,  casually,  and  proceeded  with  his  breakfast 
preparations. 

Was  it — or  wasn't  it?  The  eyes  of  Phil  following 
the  gaze  of  Chet  fastened  upon  a  dark  spot,  like  a 
boulder  lodged  apparently  a  third  the  way  up  the  long 
slope  of  Warrior  Peak.  Here  a  ledge  or  shelf  out- 
jutted.  Over  Warrior  Peak  streamed  the  sunshine, 
throwing  the  hither  flank  into  relief  of  lights  and 
shade.  The  formation  was  reddish,  granite  or  sand- 
stone; and  this  spot  was  the  one  prominent  dark  spot 
amidst  a  little  area  of  shine.  Peculiarly  shaped,  and 
prominent  because  of  its  position,  it  was  readily  picked 
out  by  roving  eye. 

"See  him?  "asked  old  Dan. 

"  I  do !  "  exclaimed  Chet.  "  There — right  over  that 
clump  of  cedar." 

"  So  do  I!  "  exclaimed  Phil.  "  That  is,  I  think  I 
do." 

"  Been  settin'  thar  ever  since  I  came  out,"  remarked 
old  Dan. 

"  Don't  you  want  to  get  him?  "  invited  Chet,  eager 
as  usual,  when  game  was  in  sight.  "  Come  on — shall 
we?" 

"  Get  him  ?  No,  I  don't  want  to  get  him,"  chuckled 
old  Dan.  "  He's  all  right,  whar  he  air ;  we're  all  right, 
whar  we  air.  He  ain't  meddlin'  with  our  cabin,  an' 
we  ain't  meddlin'  with  his  rock!  An'  thar's  country 
enough  for  all.  Now  he's  given  us  a  good  look,  an' 
he's  seen  we're  white  Injuns,  an'  he's  travelin'  on. 
Adios,  brother,"  and  calling,  the  old  trapper  waved  his 
arm.  "  Pah-wah-to  ee-no-ut  oo-thay.  Wagh!  " 


158  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Yes,  that  was  a  bear — and  a  big  bear;  for  the 
boulder  had  moved;  it  had  turned  into  a  bear  sitting 
on  his  haunches,  as  if  gazing  down  at  the  camp ;  then 
into  a  bear  on  all  fours.  He  paused,  as  if  stretching  or 
yawning ;  and  turning  broadside  with  a  backward  look, 
at  Grizzly  Dan's  words  went  lumbering  off,  a  bulky 
creature  the  size  of  a  cow,  on  up  through  the  stones 
and  brush  of  the  mountain-side ;  occasionally  halting,  to 
look  back  or  to  sniff  about,  until  he  disappeared  in  a 
little  defile  which  he  seemed  to  be  threading. 

"  I  might  have  reached  him  with  this  thirty-thirty," 
declared  Chet,  boastfully. 

"  Only  ye  didn't,"  observed  Grizzly  Dan,  flatly. 
"  An'  he  might  have  reached  you  last  night,  only  he 
didn't.  So  you're  even." 

"  Was  that  Old  Four-Toes  ?  "  asked  Phil,  tingling 
with  the  sight. 

"  O'  course  he  war." 

"  What  did  you  call  to  him?  " 

"  Jest  a  leetle  talk,  wishin'  him  good  luck,  boy,  an* 
thankin'  him  for  leavin'  us  be.  Now  mebbe  he'll  'tend 
to  those  thar  black  wolves  for  us,  so  they'll  mend  their 
manners.  If  they  don't,  some  of  'em  air  liable  to  get 
hurted.  Won't  stand  for  bad  manners,  this  chile  won't. 
Pity  a  man  can't  leave  a  pot  on  the  fire  without  havin* 
it  messed  up!  Wagh!  Pore  doin's.  But  let's  eat. 
Hyar's  fat  cow  for  the  meat-bag,  an'  more  to  come — 
tho'  (and  he  chuckled)  I  don't  know  whar  from. 
Didn't  find  yore  dawg?" 

"  No,"  said  Phil,  with  another  glance  about. 


CHAPTER  XII 

HOSTILE   SIGN 

"  SHE'LL  come  back,"  reassured  old  Dan.  "  She'll 
come  back.  Now  what  you  want  to  do,  rest  o'  the 
day?" 

"  Anything.  Whatever  you  think  we'd  better/'  said 
Phil. 

0 

st  This  air  a  free  trappers'  camp;  every  man  do  jest 
what  he  feels  up  to  doin',  'cept  killin'  critters  he  don't 
need  to  use,"  instructed  old  Dan.  "  This  coon  thinks 
he'll  take  a  bath  in  that  thar  medicine  pool.  It  air 
great  medicine  for  stiff  j'ints,  an'  I  got  plenty.  So 
this  coon'll  soak,  an'  he'll  sun,  an'  he'll  lie  'round 
camp,  an'  make  medicine,  an'  mebbe  patch  up  a  saddle 
or  two,  an'  overhaul  his  possibles,  an'  sorter  look  into 
camp  matters  gener'ly,  an'  mebbe  keep  the  pot  bilin', 
case  thar's  meat  to  bile;  for  he  ain't  so  spry  as  he 
onct  war.  An'  to-night  thar's  traps  to  set." 

"  Guess  I'll  look  for  Bonita,  then,"  announced  Phil. 

"  I'll  look  for  Four-Toes,"  announced  Chet.  "  He 
shore's  a  big  bear." 

"  Wall,  reckon  you  can  do  both  at  same  time," 
vouchsafed  old  Dan.  "  Two  an'  two — that's  white 
Injun  way.  One  can  help  t'other;  an'  in  a  scrimmage 
one  rifle's  always  loaded.  Don't  s'pose  you'll  have 
a  scrimmage,"  he  added,  with  his  chuckle,  to  him- 

159 


160  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

self;  "  but  the  lone  trail  ain't  the  safe  trail,  'cordin'  to 
trapper  law.  An',''  he  added  further,  brightly,  "  if 
you  do  chance  to  get  more  meat'n  one  o'  ye  can 
carry,  you  can  tote  between  you." 

"What?" 

"  Wall — 'tain't  deer  season,  an'  'tain't  sheep  season 
'less  they  try  to  butt  ye  off  the  trail,  an'  'tain't  bufFler 
season,  an'  'tain't  elk  season,  an'  b'ar  air  pore.  But 
it  always  air  rabbit  season  an'  ground-hawg  season  an' 
pre-airie-dawg  season  an'  wolf  season  an'  cat  season." 

"  Aw,  shucks !  "  bemoaned  Chet.  "  We  can't  eat 
that  stuff." 

"  No  ?  "  mused  old  Dan.  "  I  was  jest  showin'  you 
how  white  Injuns  air  fixed,  these  days.  Thar's  'bout 
one  month  in  the  year  when  reel  meat  can  be  killed,  an* 
for  t'other  'leven  months  we  eat  ground-hawg  or 
starve.  But  I  tell  'ee :  I  don't  want  any  breakin'  o' 
laws.  Laws  warn't  made  for  good  or  ill  o'  any  one 
person,  or  two  or  three  persons ;  they  war  made  for  a 
whole  people  an'  it  ain't  for  individuals  to  say  whether 
or  no  they  shall  keep  'em.  Go  you  now  an'  do  what 
you  can,  but  don't  'ee  sneak.  A  law-breaker  air  a  thief, 
'cause  he  steals  rights  that  don't  belong  to  him;  an'  a 
thief  an'  a  liar  air  hated  in  this  country,  like  they  air 
every  whar." 

"  What's  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain  ?  "  asked 
Chet. 

"  Jest  country — heaps  of  it.  The  Hosthief  Trail 
comes  in  at  t'other  end ;  but  don't  many  people  get  as 
far  as  Warrior  Peak,  an'  mighty  few  get  on  the  side 
whar  we  air." 


HOSTILE    SIGN  161 

"  Guess  we'll  go  up  over,  and  see  what  it  looks  like,'* 
said  Chet,  business-bent. 

"  Go  ahead,"  chuckled  old  Dan.  "  Go  ahead.  You 
won't  ketch  up  with  Four-Toes,  but  you  may  come 
upon  yore  dawg.  One  place  air  as  good  as  another, 
for  that" 

"  Reckon  where  the  bear  can  go,  our  hawsses  can 
go,"  called  back  Chet,  as  with  Phil  he  hastened  to 
bring  them  in. 

"  Sartin.  White  Injuns  don't  walk  'less  they  have 
to." 

Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye  were  quickly  saddled.  It 
seemed  queer  to  be  riding  in  moccasins — but  Phil  was 
sure  that  he  and  Chet  made  a  striking  picture,  as  in 
their  gay  fringed  buckskins,  bandanna  handkerchiefs 
binding  foreheads,  heads  bare,  with  rifles  held  across 
horn  in  approved  trapper  style,  they  rode  away  for  the 
slope  of  Warrior  Peak. 

A  series  of  little  draws  ran  up,  as  is  usual  on 
mountain-sides,  toward  the  crest ;  and  turning  into  one 
of  these,  single  file  they  followed  it.  Here  was  to  be 
discerned,  also,  from  time  to  time,  a  trace  of  a  trail — 
an  old  trail  overgrown  with  grass  and  moss. 

Very  likely  Old  Four-Toes  had  been  pursuing  this 
trail  as  the  easiest  ascent,  for  Pepper  and  Medicine 
Eye,  with  ears  constantly  pricked  forward,  occasionally 
snorted.  The  riders  grasped  their  trusty  guns  and 
maintained  keen  watch,  as  might  Grizzly  Dan  himself. 
Higher  and  higher  led  the  draw — a  cool,  fragrant 
draw,  thick  with  bushes,  squaw-berry,  currant,  and 
raspberry,  just  budding  into  bloom.  The  horses  were 


162  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

puffing,  when  at  the  head  of  the  draw  the  riders  turned 
them  out,  and  all  emerged  upon  a  little  plateau,  over- 
looking the  camp  below. 

"  Here's  where  he  was !  "  exclaimed  Chet  "  Wagh ! 
See?" 

"  Wagh!  "  confirmed  Phil,  gravely.  "  Hunting  for 
grubs." 

For  by  evidence  of  a  large  stump  freshly  overturned 
(as  proved  the  raw  earth,  scratched  up  or  sticking  to 
its  roots)  some  powerful  animal  had  lately  stopped 
here,  foraging. 

"  He  war,"  agreed  Chet.    "  Heap  big  b'ar." 

Phil  nodded. 

The  two  horses  were  staring  about,  apprehensively ; 
but  seeing  nothing,  in  the  warm  sunshine,  save  peace, 
they  gazed  down  into  the  region  which  they  had  left. 
Gazed  down  also  the  boys,  lounging  at  ease  in  the 
saddles,  while  the  horses  breathed. 

There  was  the  park,  set  at  the  edge  of  the  mountain's 
base;  a  faint  film  of  smoke  arose  from  it,  betokening 
old  Dan's  fire.  They  could  descry  Dan  himself  moving 
about,  and  they  waved  an  arm  at  him  from  their  eyrie. 
He  paused,  and  probably  waved  back.  Pepper,  as  if 
yearning  for  the  sweet  pasturage  from  which  he  had 
been  taken,  and  the  companionship  of  Betty  the  mule, 
whinnied  loudly  and  foolishly;  but  no  answering 
whinny — no,  nor  bray  either — was  wafted  back  to 
show  that  he  was  missed.  Medicine  Eye  drooped  dis- 
consolate ears,  and  philosophically  began  to  graze. 

Far  beyond  the  camp,  and  park,  spread  the  rolling 
timber  and  brush,  with  Red  Chief,  unmistakable  in  his 


HOSTILE    SIGN  163 

war-paint,  standing  like  a  solitary  sentinel  at  the  utter- 
most edge.  It  was  a  magic  world;  but 

"  Come  on,"  bade  Chet ;  and  they  resumed  their 
climb. 

Here  in  the  open  the  trail  had  disappeared,  but  now 
and  then  the  sign  of  the  roving  Four-Toes  was  seen. 
The  climb  waxed  harder ;  in  places  steep,  among  ledges 
and  loose  rock,  where  the  boys  trudged  afoot,  leading 
the  horses;  but  again  across  short  level  spots  and 
through  little  swales,  where  they  might  ride.  They 
aimed  for  the  saddle  of  the  mountain  between  the 
warrior's  toes  and  knees.  It  promised  a  pass. 

Anon  they  halted  briefly,  to  gaze  about.  The  world 
was  dropping  away,  lower  and  lower;  and  every  halt 
and  survey  brought  the  crest  at  the  saddle  nearer,  until, 
with  a  final  scramble,  all  puffing,  over  a  stretch  of 
gravel  they  had  reached  the  top.  Now  they  stood  upon 
the  legs  of  the  warrior,  who  was  so  vast  that  at  close 
range  he  lost  much  of  his  figuration.  The  park  and 
the  camp,  down  amidst  the  country  which  they  had 
left,  merged  with  the  general  landscape;  and  whether 
old  Dan,  with  his  wonderful  eyes,  could  distinguish 
such  small  object  as  two  boys,  a  mile  or  so  across  from 
him  and  almost  a  mile  above  him,  was  doubtful;  but 
they  waved  their  arms,  at  a  venture. 

Drifted  snow  was  still  lying,  unmelted;  but  in  the 
thin  air  the  sunshine  was  warm  and  dazzling,  flooding 
from  overhead  so  that  they  had  to  shade  their  eyes 
(in  approved  fashion,  like  scouts)  with  the  hand,  as 
they  stood  leaning  upon  rifle  and  carbine,  monarchs  of 
the  wild  yet  peaceful  world  outspread  around. 


164  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Somebody  else  has  been  up  here !  "  said  Chet, 
quickly.  "  Looks  like  an  old  fort.  See  ?  " 

They  left  their  horses  to  heave  and  grunt  and  to 
pick  up  the  scant  herbage,  and  strode  aside  to  examine 
a  rectangle,  breast  high,  of  flat  rocks  piled  up  in  four 
walls.  The  rectangle  was  large  enough  to  accom- 
modate a  dozen  persons.  A  number  of  stones  had 
fallen  from  the  upper  layers;  in  one  corner  were  the 
marks  of  a  fire,  with  bits  of  charred  wood  still  present. 

"  Bones,  too !  "  asserted  Chet.    "  Wagh !  " 

"  Wagh !  "  echoed  Phil,  as  they  examined  the  brittle 
splinters,  which  told  nothing,  save  that  probably  they 
were  the  debris  from  some  meal  cooked  over  this  fire. 

"Here,  though!  "  exclaimed  Chet;  and  plucking  at 
a  crevice  in  one  of  the  walls  he  pulled  therefrom  a  rag 
— no,  an  old  moccasin !  An  old,  flimsy,  tattered  Indian 
moccasin,  the  sole  worn  through,  but  a  little  of  the 
beading  still  visible  on  the  toe. 

"  Wagh !  "  said  Phil.    "  Hostile  sign." 

"  Wagh !  "  agreed  Chet.    "  Ute." 

The  moccasin  told  nothing,  save  that  it  must  have 
been  left  there  a  long,  long  time  ago,  so  weathered  and 
brittle  was  it.  Somebody — Indians,  probably — had 
erected  this  fort,  and  camped  here,  and  had  gone  on; 
one  of  them  with  new  moccasins  in  place  of  old,  or 
with  none  at  all,  possibly. 

Chet  thrust  the  relic  into  the  breast  of  his  shirt,  for 
the  buckskins  had  no  pockets. 

"  Come  on,"  he  proposed.  "  Nothing  more  here. 
Let's  go  over." 

The  other,  or  east  side  of  the  peak,  flowed  down 


HOSTILE    SIGN  165 

in  a  series  of  slopes,  much  as  the  west  flank  had  risen. 
Beyond  stretched  again  a  country  of  green  timber  and 
brush,  rolling  and  interspersed  with  scraggy  spurs  and 
knobs  breaking  above  the  surface,  like  reefs  in  an 
ocean.  Forming  a  barrier,  as  it  were,  against  the  out- 
side world,  in  a  semicircle,  surrounding,  swept  a  snowy 
range,  blue  and  white  and  beautiful. 

"  Those  are  the  Hawssfly  Mountains ;  the  Hawss- 
thief  Trail  comes  in  over  'em  somewhere.  But  I  never 
saw  'em  from  this  side,"  stated  Chet. 

Down  upon  this  the  thither  side  of  Warrior  Peak 
they  plunged,  riding  again  Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye. 
Their  scarlet  fringes  flew  in  the  little  breeze,  as  with 
keen  white  Injun  glances  they  kept  sharp  outlook  for 
other  "  hostile  sign." 

The  tracks  of  the  heavy  bear,  imprinted  in  the  moist 
gravel  and  soil,  and  occasionally  in  snow,  were  not 
difficult  to  follow;  but  never  a  glimpse  of  him  was 
given.  Frequently  he  had  paused  and  nosed  about, 
but  in  the  main  he  had  traveled  right  along,  and  faster 
than  they  upon  their  horses,  for  he  had  no  need  to 
watch  ahead. 

Lower  they  descended,  and  lower,  and  the  timber 
began  to  thicken.  They  lost  the  trail  of  Four-Toes — 
and  Phil  did  not  particularly  care.  The  timber  was  no 
place,  he  believed,  to  explain  to  Four-Toes  why  they 
were  persistently  following  him. 

But  they  continued,  for  it  was  pleasant,  here  at  the 
base  of  the  mountain,  in  the  unknown  forest,  which 
ought  to  be  thronging  with  wild  life  (but  which 
wasn't)  and  which  must  harbor  many  an  adventure. 


i66  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Silently  they  rode,  threading  the  trunks  of  spruce  and 
pine.  The  ground  was  soft,  the  air  warm  and  still,  a 
few  squirrels  and  jays  chattered. 

"  Wish  we  could  come  on  some  buffler,"  said  Chet. 
"  This  chile's  getting  wolfish." 

"  Wagh !  So  air  this,"  replied  Phil,  entering  into 
white  Injun  spirit,  as  before.  "  But  supposing  we 
did  see  that  old  bull?  What'd  we  do?  " 

"  Might  rope  him  and  let  him  go  again." 

"  Huh !  Roping  an  old  buffalo  bull  doesn't  shine 
with  this  coon,"  confessed  Phil.  "  We'd  just  say 
1  howdy  '  to  him,  and  pass  by.  But  we  ought  to  have 
brought  a  lunch." 

"  Shoot  a  rabbit — when  we  see  one,"  grunted  Chet. 
"  Have  to  shoot  his  head  off,  or  there  won't  be  any- 
thing left  of  him,  with  these  soft-nose  bullets !  " 

"  Wagh ! "  warned  Phil,  pulling  Pepper  short. 
"  More  sign !  Heap  sign !  " 

The  timber  had  thinned,  the  brush  had  thinned,  and 
riding  side  by  side  they  were  entering  upon  a  narrow 
plateau  which  lay  like  a  giant's  highway  diagonally 
with  their  course.  The  flat  was  well  sodded,  and 
spangled  with  flowers;  and  crushing  deeply  flowers 
and  sod,  ran,  straight  away  along  this  the  hither  edge, 
twin  wheel-tracks,  broken  also  by  the  track  of  hoofs. 

"  Emigrants,"  alleged  Chet.  "  Two-hawss  wagon 
and  a  little  stock.  We'll  follow  to  the  end  of  the  flat, 
and  if  we  don't  catch  sight  of  'em  we'll  go  back. 
Wagh !  " 

"Wagh!" 

Vigilant,  at  easy  trot  they  rode  in  the  trail.    As  Chet 


HOSTILE    SIGN  167 

had  said,  the  hoof  marks  indicated  a  two-horse  (or 
four-horse)  team,  hauling  a  heavy  wagon,  and  some 
saddle  horses  or  loose  horses  following — all  together 
making  quite  a  trail,  the  hoof  marks  confused  between 
the  wheel  marks,  and  an  occasional  animal  pacing 
outside. 

"  Fresh  sign,  all  right,"  claimed  Phil.  "  Must  have 
been  made  yesterday." 

"  Wish  we  could  strike  their  camp,  with  the  pot  on 
the  fire.  I'm  wolfish." 

"  Eat  yore  moccasins,"  advised  Phil. 

They  reached  the  end  of  the  flat,  without  incident. 
What  appeared  to  be  an  ancient  wood-road  continued 
on,  through  the  increasing  brush  and  timber.  Peering 
ahead,  from  under  his  turban  'kerchief,  Chet  spoke 
cautiously : 

"  Thar's  camp !    See  a  wagon,  anyhow." 

But  although,  now  watching  eagerly,  they  rode  on, 
not  a  moving  object,  near  the  wagon,  met  their  gaze. 
The  camp  seemed  to  be  deserted ;  and  only  the  waiting 
vehicle,  at  one  side  of  the  trail,  indicated  that  here 
might  be  a  camp  at  all. 

"Huh!"  grunted  Chet. 

Then  they  reached  the  spot.  Here  had  been  a  camp, 
indeed:  a  spring  trickled  from  a  ledge,  and  before  it 
had  halted  the  party.  A  heap  of  embers  bespoke  a 
fire;  there  were  several  emptied  tin  cans,  a  few  cut 
boughs;  and  there  was  the  wagon.  By  the  marks  it 
must  have  been  equipped  with  a  hood;  but  the  canvas 
and  the  frame  had  been  torn  away  apparently,  leaving 
only  splinters.  This  left  the  wagon  in  a  dilapidated 


i68  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

state — and  the  more  the  boys  viewed  the  camp  as  a 
whole,  the  more  desolate  and  mishandled  did  it  impress 
them.  Only  bullet  marks  or  traces  of  other  missiles 
were  lacking. 

"  Took  kingbolt  and  braces  and  single-trees,  too," 
observed  Chet,  practical-minded.  "  Ripped  'em  off  or 
tore  'em  loose.  Must  have  been  in  a  hurry." 

"  More  sign,"  quoth  Phil,  dismounting.  "  Woman's 
shoe  made  this  print.  Small  heel.  And  here's  man 
sign,  wagh ! "  And  he  picked  up  a  battered  black 
slouch  hat.  "  White  brave  left  this." 

"  Hawss  tracks  go  on,"  observed  Chet,  soberly. 
"  Don't  savvy  about  the  wagon.  Looks  queer,  to  me. 
But  I  guess  we'd  better  turn  back.  Maybe  their  har- 
ness broke,  or  the  team  was  sick.  Anyway,  if  we  don't 
hustle  we  won't  get  to  camp  before  dark.  It  won't  be 
any  fun  crossing  that  mountain  in  the  dark.  You 
don't  want  that  old  hat,  do  you  ?  " 

"  I'll  take  it  to  Dan.    Might  come  in  handy." 

Phil  tied  it  to  his  saddle,  and  they  started  back. 

Now  they  rode  faster,  pushing  on  at  a  trot  and  lope, 
anxious  to  cross  the  mountain  before  dusk  fell.  Noon 
had  passed,  for  the  sun  was  in  their  eyes  as  they  back- 
tracked ;  and  while  they  were  climbing  the  peak  again, 
he  sank  behind  it.  At  the  top  he  burst  into  view,  over 
Red  Chief;  and  he  was  behind  Red  Chief  also,  and  the 
last  shadows  had  faded,  when,  glad  to  be  home,  on 
stumbling  Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye  they  rode  into  the 
park  where  the  smoke  of  Grizzly  Dan's  fire  welcomed 
them. 

The  old  trapper  stood  awaiting  them,  as  if  expectant. 


HOSTILE    SIGN  169 

"  Aw !  "  gasped  Chet.  "  We  didn't  bring  any  meat! 
\Yhafll  he  say?" 

"  I  forgot  all  about  it.  I  was  thinking  about 
that  deserted  camp  and  stripped  wagon,"  answered 
Phil. 

Tired  white  Injuns,  they  approached  the  waiting 
trapper.  They  did  not  ride  at  a  gallop,  with  discharge 
of  rifle  and  with  whoop  of  voice;  only  Pepper  and 
Medicine  Eye,  at  sight  of  Betty  and  Cotton-tail  and 
the  spotted  pony,  across,  whinnied  impatiently. 

"  Thar's  the  pot;  whar's  the  meat?"  demanded 
Grizzly  Dan. 

The  boys  dismounted  as  alertly  as  possible,  not  to 
give  a  hint  of  their  stiffness,  and  particularly  of  their 
aching  feet,  almost  blistered  by  the  stirrups.  Riding 
in  moccasins  had  its  disadvantages,  at  first. 

"  We'll  get  some  rabbits,  as  soon  as  we  unsaddle," 
engaged  Phil,  limping  to  loosen  cinches  and  remove 
bridle.  "  Didn't  stop  to  hunt,  much.  We  were  'way 
across  the  mountain." 

"  I  should  say!  "  endorsed  Chet,  likewise  limping. 

"  Wall,  now,  I  tell  'ee  this  hyar's  a  pretty  wolfish 
camp,"  informed  old  Dan.  "  Empty  meat-bags,  an' 
nothin'  to  fill  'em!  I  sorter  thought  you'd  come  in 
loaded  with  b'ar  or  buff'ler.  Have  to  kill  a  hos,  won't 
we?" 

"  Chet  brought  you  an  old  moccasin,"  proffered  Phil. 
"  Found  it  on  top  the  mountain.  Might  eat  that!  " 

"  And  Phil  brought  you  an  old  hat,"  retorted  Chet, 
not  to  be  outdone. 

Grizzly  Dan  glanced  quizzically  at  the  articles. 


170  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Thank  'ee.  I  see  you  air  big  hunters.  Old  Ute 
moccasin,  that  air." 

"  It  was  stuffed  in  among  the  rocks  of  an  old  fort, 
on  the  peak/*  explained  Phil. 

"  War  it,  now !  "  crooned  Grizzly  Dan,  interested. 
"  'Spect  then  it's  been  thar  thirty  year  or  more.  I 
remember  that  old  fort.  It  war  a  signal  station.  This 
hyar  hat  might  do  for  patching  in  case  I  get  hard  up." 
He  was  fingering  it  carelessly.  Suddenly  his  expres- 
sion and  his  voice  changed.  "  Whar'd  you  get  it, 
boy?"  rang  his  sternly  excited  tone.  "Whar'd  you 
get  it  ?  Tell  me,  quick !  " 

"  Clear  across  the  mountain,  in  a  deserted  camp. 
Why?" 

"Why?  It  air  Injun!  It  air  Injun!  Smell  it? 
That  air  Injun  smell !  Wagh !  " 


CHAPTER  XIII 


HE  passed  the  hat  to  Phil.  It  was  a  greasy,  battered 
hat,  such  as  might  be  consigned  to  ash-heap  or  vacant 
lot.  Phil  wrinkled  his  nose  over  it ;  it  certainly  exhaled 
a  musty,  peculiar  odor — but  not  one  to  be  unexpected, 
from  its  character;  and  he  passed  it  to  Chet  Chet 
sniffed  long  and  carefully,  like  some  anxious  set- 
ter dog. 

"Kin  savvy.  May  be  Injun,  may  be  plumb  dirt, 
for  all  I  know,"  he  confessed.  "  Does  smell  some  like 
a  gang  of  Injuns,  though.  Smells  like  Charley  Pow- 
wow, a  little." 

Instantly  across  Phil  flashed  a  reminiscent  tang  of 
the  Ute  village,  and  the  Ute  cavalcade,  with  which  he 
traveled,  a  captive,  before  ever  he  had  met  Chet! 
That  odd,  pungent,  burning-leaf  odor?  Why,  cer- 
tainly ! 

"  Injun!  I've  smelled  Injun  too  often  to  be  fooled, 
boy!"  declared  old  Dan,  taking  the  hat.  "If  you 
don't  believe,  try  my  old  mule.  She'll  say — an*  she's 
never  seen  much  Injun.  But  whar'd  you  get  it? 
Quick!" 

Phil  and  Chet  together  told  of  the  tracks,  and  the 
recent  camp,  and  the  abandoned  wagon,  stripped  of  its 
hood  and  iron  and  single-trees. 

171 


172  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  I  know  jest  whar  you  war,"  asserted  old  Dan, 
promptly.  '  That  camp  air  in  the  pack-trail  made  by 
us  beaver-hunters  in  Forty-seven,  to  take  carts  through 
with  supplies  for  tradin'  with  the  Snakes.  Snakes  had 
a  big  village  up  north.  But  trail  ain't  used  nowadays. 
Somethin'  queer,  thar,"  and  he  wagged  his  head. 
'*  Injuns  don't  travel  these  hyar  mountains  with 
wagons,  an'  I  don't  savvy  what  anybody  else  is  doin' 
in  hyar,  anyhow,  with  a  wagon.  Strippin'  that  hood 
off  looks  like  Injun  work.  Take  the  hickory  ribs  for 
their  bows,  an'  canvas  for  a  blanket  or  lodge  kivver. 
Wagh!  Many's  the  wagon  I've  seen,  plundered  an 
burnin'!  Didn't  burn  this  one,  you  say?  Saw  heel- 
marks,  did  ye  ?  Woman's  ?  Wagh !  " 

"  Looked  like  woman's — small  and  pointed  rather," 
explained  Phil. 

"  Woman  shoes  an'  Injun  hat  don't  go  well  to- 
gether," muttered  old  Dan.  "  Didn't  used  to,  anyway. 
Squaw  feet'd  be  moccasined  feet.  Wagh!  These  air 
hostile  sign,  to  my  notion.  Have  to  look  into  that 
to-morrer.  But  we  needn't  go  over  the  mountain  yore 
way.  Thar's  a  better  trail,  over  Blackfoot  Pass,  I'll 
show  ye.  Can't  do  anythin'  to-night,  though,  but  eat 
an'  sleep." 

A  waft  of  fragrance  smote  Phil's  nostrils.  It  came 
from  the  faithful  black  pot,  bubbling  on  the  fire. 

"  But  what  do  we  eat?  "  he  cried  hopefully.  "  Hur- 
rah !  Meat  in  the  pot,  Chet !  Smell  it  ?  " 

"  I  shore  do,"  drawled  Chet.  "  Hawss  or  moc- 
casins ?  " 

"  Yep,  meat  in  the  pot,  an'  yore  dawg's  back," 


"DANCING    MEDICINE'1  173 

blurted  old  Dan.  "  Won't  keep  ye  guessin'  any 
longer." 

"  Where  is  she  ?    When  did  she  come  ?  " 

"  In  the  shack.  I've  shut  her  in,  'cause  I've  got  wolf- 
traps  set.  But  she  ain't  'specially  frisky.  She's  back 
from  the  long  trail  an'  she's  tired." 

"  When  did  she  come?  "  asked  Phil  again,  over  his 
shoulder,  as  he  and  Chet  made  for  the  cabin. 

"  Soon  after  you  left.  Keep  to  the  trail  an'  watch 
out  for  traps." 

Sure  enough,  there,  curled  up  at  the  foot  of  the  bunk, 
upon  the  buffalo  robe,  was  Bonita ;  a  dusty,  bedraggled, 
burry-coated,  most  disreputable  and  very  weary  Bonita. 
She  barely  raised  her  nose,  opened  her  eyes,  gave  a 
wiggle  of  the  tail,  and  then  settled  to  sleep  again. 

"  Shame  on  you!  "  rebuked  Phil  and  Chet,  petting 
with  the  hands  and  reproving  with  the  voice.  "  Shame 
on  you,  to  go  off  like  that,  and  let  us  hunt  for  you !  " 

But  save  for  a  little  shiver  of  content,  which  showed 
a  great  longing  to  be  let  alone  until  morning,  it  would 
be  doubted  if  Bonita  heard.  So  they  let  her  stay  and 
passed  out,  walking  carefully,  mindful  of  the  wolf 
traps,  around  the  shack  to  wash  at  the  springs. 

"  Look !  "  exclaimed  Chet,  nodding  toward  a  spruce 
which  stood  beside  the  cabin.  "  More  meat !  " 

"Venison,  isn't  it?" 

"  Sure." 

For  part  of  a  carcass  of  a  deer  was  hanging  from  a 
branch.  No  attempt  had  been  made  to  conceal  the 
nature  of  the  carcass.  The  hide  was  still  on,  and 
the  head  and  feet. 


174  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Huh !  "  commented  Chet.  "  Must  have  jumped  up 
there  and  killed  himself !  Too  bad !  " 

"  That's  right.  Wonder  what  kind  of  a  story  old 
Dan  has  about  it?" 

And  they  felt  a  little  aggrieved  that  the  old  trapper 
had  lectured  them  on  keeping  the  game  laws,  and  had 
broken  the  laws  himself.  But  Dan  was  ready. 

"  'Spect,  now,  you  won't  want  to  eat  this  hyar  nice 
boiled  shoulder  after  you've  seen  what  war  growin'  in 
the  spruce  yonder,"  he  chuckled.  "  Hadn't  ye  better 
go  an'  get  a  rabbit  ?  Or  did  'ee  have  yore  mouth  made 
up  for  a  dawg  feast?  Pshaw!  Wisht  I'd  known!" 

Phil  flushed;  Chet  flushed;  but  each  helped  himself 
to  a  liberal  slice  of  the  steaming  chunk. 

"Where'dyougetit,Dan?" 

"Went  to  market;  jest  went  to  market.  Didn't  I 
tell  'ee  this  air  trappers'  market?"  And  he  chuckled 
more,  while  he  dug  with  his  hunting-knife,  and  chewed, 
and  smacked  his  whiskered  lips.  There  was  no  doubt 
about  the  deliciousness  of  the  meat.  It  was  fat  and 
juicy  and  cooked  to  perfection,  slightly  flavored  with 
some  species  of  wild  herb.  But  Phil  could  not  help 
feeling  ashamed  and  guilty  as  he  ate — although  eat  he 
must,  or  starve.  However,  old  Dan  speedily  put  him 
and  Chet  more  at  ease. 

"  Wall,  s'pose  I  ought  to  square  myself  with  you 
boys.  You  see,  I'm  an  old  man,  an'  I  live  out  in  the 
hills  all  the  year,  an'  meat  air  my  diet.  I  don't  kill  for 
fun;  I  kill  to  eat.  So,  to  help  me  along,  the  game 
authorities  give  me  a  permit  to  get  meat  when  I  air 
lackin'  an'  air  wolfish.  Reckon  they  know  I  don't  kill 


"DANCING    MEDICINE"  175 

more'n  I  need,  an'  don't  waste  what  I  get,  an'  don't 
kill  any  oftener'n  I  have  to.  Seemed  to  me  this 
war  liable  to  be  a  lean  camp  to-night,  an'  I  went  to 
market." 

"  You  did  well,  too,"  praised  Phil,  his  mouth  now 
gladly  full. 

"  Gee !  Wish  I  had  that  permit,"  said  the  blood- 
thirsty Chet. 

"  Oh,  no,"  drawled  old  Dan.  "  No,  you  don't.  I 
air  old,  an'  I  air  keerful,  an*  the  game  don't  suffer, 
whar  I  am.  I  need  it,  too,  bad.  But  most  white  people 
can't  be  trusted  with  game.  They  got  to  kill  it  all,  for 
the  pelts  or  the  horns  or  the  tusks.  The  Injun  killed 
for  meat,  an*  the  game  never  got  less ;  then  the  whites 
come  in,  killin'  more'n  they  used — takin'  jest  the 
tongue  out  of  a  buff'ler  an'  leavin'  a  ton  o'  good  meat 
to  spile,  an'  takin'  jest  the  tusks  of  an  elk  an'  leavin' 
the  rest  o*  the  carcass — an'  whar  is  the  game  to-day? 
Gone,  boy,  gone !  I  helped  do  it,  for  I  war  foolish,  too. 
Now  I  air  old,  an'  I  kill  as  seldom  as  I  can  get  along 
with,  an'  what  I  kill  I  use.  I've  had  this  hyar  camp 
for  thirty  year,  an'  to-day  I  can  go,  same  as  thirty  year 
ago,  to  a  sartin  spot  within  a  mile,  an'  always  find 
a  deer.  Why?  'Cause  I've  been  keerful,  an'  I  take 
jest  what  I  need  an*  leave  the  rest." 

"  Where  is  that?  I'd  like  to  go  sometime!  "  invited 
Chet,  all  eagerness  again. 

"  Wall,"  chuckled  old  Dan,  "  I'll  never  take  ye  an' 
you'll  never  find  out.  Those  thar  cattle  belong  to 
Sally  an*  me,  an'  one  shot,  occasional,  is  all  we  ask. 
You  an'  yore  seven-shooter  gun'd  go  crazy,  like  other 


176  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

white  folk  do.  No,  boy;  you  obey  the  law,  as  it's 
written." 

"  What  was  it— a  buck?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Fine  young  yearlin'  black-tail.  I've  been  watchin' 
him  for  some  time.  I  knowed  his  mammy." 

"  Didn't  see  any  horns  on  the  head  in  the  tree." 

"  He  dropped  'em,  sonny,  long  while  ago,  an'  the 
new  pair  air  jest  pokin'  through.  Prime  condition  he 
war,  too,  'fore  fly-time.  Flies  air  liable  to  make  deer 
lean,  in  summer,  an'  the  new  horns,  in  the  velvet,  irri- 
tate 'em.  But  I  knew  he'd  be  prime,  yet.  Wagh! 
Thar  come  the  hounds !  "  continued  the  old  trapper. 
"  Listen !  Now  I  'spect  they'll  be  1'arned  some  man- 
ners, this  night,  if  they  snoop  'round  this  hyar  camp 
an'  muss  things  up." 

"  Traps  ?  "  queried  Chet. 

"  Yes,  traps.  I  tell  those  thar  black  varmint 
I  won't  have  'em  near  if  they  don't  behave.  No,  I 
won't." 

The  long  howl  of  the  wolf,  aided  and  abetted  by  the 
yap  of  coyotes  also,  drifted  through  the  dusk.  The 
sun  had  drawn  the  last  vestige  of  his  royal  mantle  of 
pink  and  gold  behind  the  western  ridges,  the  twilight 
was  paling,  and  the  chill  hosts  of  dusk,  advance 
skirmish  line  of  the  frosty  night,  were  stealing  across 
through  the  timber  and  into  the  little  park. 

"  Wagh !  "  said  old  Dan.  "  With  a  bath  an'  a  full 
meat-bag  this  chile  feels  like  dancin'  Injun.  You  boys 
clean  up,  an'  I'll  see  to  the  bosses,  an'  then  we'll  make 
a  little  medicine  for  the  war-path  to-morrer.  Don't 
like  that  thar  hat  sign,  anyhow,"  and  as,  carrying  his 


"DANCING    MEDICINE"  177 

long  rifle,  he  strode  away  for  the  horse  herd,  he 
wagged  his  head. 

When  he  came  back,  the  dishes  had  been  put  ship- 
shape, the  pot  set  one  side,  and  the  fire  raked  together. 

"Ha-yah-ta!"  he  called  through  the  dusk.  "  O- 
nee-tuk  soo-pi  ten-o-wiss.  Pile  on  the  wood,  white 
men.  Let's  dance.  Wagh!"  and  arriving,  he  laid 
down  his  rifle,  doffed  his  hat,  and  with  a  "  Whoo-oop  " 
began. 

"  Whoo-oop !  Ow-ow-gh !  Ow-ow-gh !  Hay-ah- 
hay!  Hay-ee-hay  hah-ah-hay  hah-ah-hay!  Whoo- 
oop!  Ow-ow-gh!  Ow-ow-gh!  Hay-ah-hay!  Hee- 
ah  hah-ah  hi-yah-hah !  Whoop !  "  chanted  old  Dan, 
with  bent  body  and  crooked  knees  and  flat  moccasins, 
in  steady  stamp  circling  the  fire.  "  Fall  in,  boys. 
Every  one  dance  Injun.  Make  yore  medicine  strong 
for  the  morrow.  Whoo-oop!  Ow-ow-gh!  Hay-ah- 
hay!" 

And  so 

"  Whoo-oop !  Ow-ow-gh !  Ow-ow-gh !  Hay-ah- 
hay  !  Hay-ee-hay  hah-ah-hay  hah-ah-hay !  "  joined  in 
the  two  boys,  Chet  first,  then  Phil  close  behind,  follow- 
ing old  Dan  and  imitating  his  movements  and  his 
chant. 

"  Thud !  Thud !  "  and  "  Scrape !  Scrape !  "  went  the 
moccasins ;  and  with  "  Whoo-oop !  "  and  "  Hay-ah- 
hay  !  "  rose  the  voices ;  and  around  and  around  the 
fire  moved  the  buckskin-clad  figures;  until,  when  all 
were  streaming  with  perspiration,  old  Dan  gave  a  final 
"  Whoo-oop!  "  and,  with  a  great  leap  aside,  quit. 

"  Thar !  "  he  gasped,  satisfied,  as  the  boys,  panting, 


178  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

staggered  from  the  circle.  "  Did  the  best  we  could, 
anyhow.  That  war  quite  a  dance." 

"Cheyenne?  "asked  Phil. 

"  Mostly.  Now  this  coon  air  ready  for  bed — after 
he  eats  a  leetle  more,  to  fill  up  whar  he  shook  down. 
An'  he'll  haul  that  thar  carcass  up  a  few  notches,  an' 
burn  a  leetle  powder  round  it,  to  keep  varmint  off. 
Used  to  be  that  wolves'd  eat  the  saddle  out  from  under 
yore  head;  but  nowadays  they've  1'arned  the  smell  o' 
powder.  Needn't  help  me.  Might  step  in  a  trap." 

The  boys  paused  to  watch  him  raise  the  carcass, 
hung  on  a  pronged  pole,  a  couple  of  feet  higher,  and 
sparingly  scatter  powder  from  his  horn  flask.  He 
touched  coal  to  the  slender  train,  which  flared  with  a 
"  Pff !  "  leaving  a  strong  odor  of  sulphur  and  brim- 
stone— which  for  a  wolf  probably  would  be  enough  till 
morning. 

Chet  yawned.  Phil  yawned.  The  dusk  had  been 
succeeded  by  the  main  army  of  the  night,  the  stars 
were  twinkling,  the  fire  had  burned  low,  and  to  the 
boys,  their  stomachs  comfortable,  their  feet  again 
weary,  the  bed  called  mightily.  So  they  went  into  the 
cabin.  Old  Dan  lingered  without;  but  just  as  they 
were  crawling  under  covers,  in  the  dark,  he  entered, 
bearing  a  blazing  splinter  for  a  light,  and  with  the 
other  hand  wiping  his  knife  upon  his  buckskin  thigh. 
His  jaws  were  moving  busily;  so  he  had  been  eating 
again ! 

Bonita  had  not  moved.  Glad  of  her  weight  upon  his 
feet,  and  luxuriating  in  the  softness  beneath  him,  Phil 
almost  beat  Chet  to  the  goal  of  gurgle  and  long  breath. 


"DANCING    MEDICINE"  179 

That  was  well.  It  had  been  a  long  day,  and  another 
long,  perhaps  more  exciting  day  was  ahead.  Hostile 
sign  had  been  discovered,  and  the  war-trail  (according 
to  old  Dan)  had  been  propitiated  by  a  dance.  Wagh! 

So  soundly  slept  the  cabin,  that  neither  howl  of 
wolf  nor  click  of  trap  wakened  it.  Phil  was  aroused 
only  at  daybreak,  by  Bonita  sniffing  and  fussing  around 
the  door.  Evidently  it  was  time  to  get  up,  anyway; 
and  he  might  as  well  let  her  out — heigh-hum!  What 
a  great  sleep !  He  yawned  and  stretched,  causing  Chet 
to  grunt  protest  at  the  movement  and  to  burrow  face 
under  the  covers,  for  another  forty  winks. 

"  Hawss-guard  out,"  warned  Phil.  And—"  Wait 
a  minute,  Bonita.  I'll  be  there." 

"  Hold  on,"  grumbled  Chet,  slumbrously.  "  Better 
not.  Traps." 

"  That's  right,  I  forgot,"  admitted  Phil,  glad  to  be 
reminded.  He  sprang  up.  "  Wonder  if  we  caught 
anything?  " 

"  Hyar !  "  called  old  Dan.  "  Keep  yore  dawg  back, 
an'  I'll  tend  to  those  thar  traps."  In  manner  pro- 
vokingly  leisurely  he  rolled  out,  donned  his  outer  gar- 
ments and  moccasins,  and  threw  open  the  door.  "  Yep, 
got  one,"  he  announced  instantly,  as  he  peered  around. 
"  Thought  I  would,  if  they  didn't  mind  what  I  said  an' 
stay  away  or  else  behave.  Thar's  one." 

Phil  and  Chet  (Phil  holding  Bonita  by  the  collar) 
looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"Where?" 

"T'other  side  the  shack.  Wall,  lemme  lift  these 
hyar  other  traps,  an'  we'll  go  over." 


180  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

He  shuffled  out,  bareheaded,  but  carrying  Sally  the 
rifle,  and  at  two  points  in  the  brush  sprang  two  traps. 

"  All  right,"  he  summoned.  "  Let  her  loose  an' 
come  along,  if  you  want  to." 

They  grabbed  carbine  and  rifle,  and  with  Bonita,  her 
ears  pricked,  fur  rising,  head  high,  trotting  before  as  if 
she  knew  exactly  where  to  go,  they  hastened  to  over- 
take him. 

Leaning  upon  his  long  rifle,  Grizzly  Dan  was  looking 
upon  what  might  have  been  a  heavy-coated  black  dog, 
fast  by  one  fore  foot  in  a  trap,  on  the  timber  side  of  the 
spruce  wherein  hung  the  deer  carcass.  The  animal  was 
standing  quietly.  At  the  approach  of  the  two  boys  it 
made  one  short  ineffectual  struggle,  and  lapsed  again. 
Bonita  trotted  forward,  hair  bristling.  The  animal,  at 
sight  of  her,  crouched  fawningly,  and  writhed  and 
whimpered,  puppy-like,  as  if  beseeching;  but  she 
snarled  harshly,  and  after  sniffing  as  near  as  she  dared, 
but  at  a  distance,  slunk  back  and  sat  down. 

Grizzly  Dan  was  addressing  the  captive — whose 
sharp  nose,  bushy  tail,  prick  ears,  and  obliquely  set  eyes 
proclaimed  him  a  wolf.  But  such  a  wolf !  Coal  black, 
large,  glossy ;  a  king. 

"  Now,  brother,  didn't  I  tell  'ee  all  thar  war  trouble 
in  store  for  'ee  if  this  hyar  messin'  'round  warn't 
quit?"  was  saying  old  Dan.  "This  air  white  Injun 
camp.  I've  had  this  'ere  camp  'fore  ever  you  war  born. 
The  gray  dawgs  know  it,  an'  they  know  what  to  do 
an'  what  not  to  do.  But  very  fust  night  I  come  in, 
this  time,  you  black  dawgs  must  chaw  a  piece  o'  my 
buckskin,  an'  knock  the  kivver  off  o'  my  pot  so  the 


"DANCING    MEDICINE"  181 

ashes  blow  in.  Why  warn't  ye  content  to  do  wolf 
work  o'  cleanin'  up  the  camp  without  messin'  things? 
Then  we'd  all  got  along  peaceable.  Couldn't  ye  have 
let  my  meat  alone?  This  hyar  meat  war  well  killed 
an'  it  war  well  needed.  Thar  air  meat  for  you  black 
dawgs  some'eres  else.  But  you  come  prowlin'  an* 
thievin'.  I  heard  you.  I  heard  you,  last  night  again, 
mischief  bent.  An'  you  air  ketched.  Now,  brother, 
you  must  die." 

The  wolf,  struggling  not  at  all,  had  stood  with  head 
and  tail  drooped,  eyes  half  closed,  patiently  taking 
Dan's  scolding.  Having  concluded,  the  old  trapper 
placed  his  rifle  against  a  tree,  and  turning,  sought 
amidst  the  brush  a  moment,  until  he  found  a  stout 
club.  This  weapon  seemed  to  Phil  rather  perilous  for 
close  quarters  with  a  trapped  wolf ;  but  he  said  nothing. 
Chet  likewise  silently,  soberly  looked  on. 

"  Brother,  you  must  die,"  again  addressed  old  Dan, 
walking  straight  for  the  captive.  "  I  will  kill  you 
quick,  but  you  shall  die  as  a  lesson  to  all  black  dawgs 
that  they  must  mind  camp  law.  Stand  quiet  now,  an' 
die  like  a  warrior." 

At  Dan's  movements  in  the  brush  the  wolf  had  shot 
one  quick  glance,  from  his  narrow  yellow  eyes,  around 
the  circle ;  Bonita  met  the  glance  with  a  snarl  as  of  con- 
tempt. Now  at  the  trapper's  approach  with  the  club 
the  wolf  stiffened  slightly,  and  turned  his  head  away. 
He  made  not  a  move,  neither  cringing  for  mercy  nor 
opposing  the  blow.  Old  Dan  struck  suddenly  and 
strongly,  bringing  his  club  down  upon  the  wolf's  head 
just  where  it  joined  the  neck.  Down  sank  the  wolf, 


182  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

uttering  never  a  sound,  to  lie  quivering  and  stiffening 
as  if  killed  instantly. 

"  Thar !  "  grunted  old  Dan,  tossing  aside  the  club  of 
execution.  "  That  air  for  you,  brother.  An'  now  we'll 
hang  yore  pelt  on  the  shack  for  a  scalp,  so  yore  tribe'll 
know.  Wagh !  You  war  a  brave  wolf,  after  all." 

"  He  never  looked  at  you,"  exclaimed  Phil. 

"  Varmint  don't,  boy.  When  you  kill  a  crippled  deer 
or  antelope  it'll  look  into  yore  eyes  with  its  eyes,  an' 
cry — cry  reel  tears,  like  a  baby.  I  declar',  sometimes 
puttin'  sech  a  pitiful  critter  out  of  its  misery,  even,  air 
hard.  An'  even  a  rabbit'll  watch  ye  to  its  last  breath. 
But  b'ar  an'  wolf,  warrior  animiles,  when  they  know 
they  got  to  die,  they'll  never  look  ye  in  the  face  an' 
watch  the  blow  or  bullet.  No ;  they  look  off,  calm,  to 
one  side,  an'  don't  dodge  or  flinch.  They  die  like 
braves.  Only  a  cat'll  watch  ye  an'  take  its  end,  in  trap 
or  pen,  hatin'  you  an'  defyin'  you,  and  biddin'  you  do 
yore  wust.  Cat  an'  dawg  air  two  different  kind  o' 
braves." 

Bonita  strolled  up,  sniffed  of  the  dead  wolf,  and 
withdrew,  growling,  her  tail  between  her  legs.  Kneel- 
ing, Dan  whipped  out  his  long  "  Green  River  "  (his 
general  utility  knife,  thrust  into  a  leather  sheath  fas- 
tened to  his  belt  at  his  right  thigh,  and  resembling  an 
ordinary  wooden-handled  butcher  knife)  and  began 
deftly  to  peel  the  wolf's  lax  body. 

"  Don't  need  help,"  he  informed.  "  Hos  guard  out! 
Fetch  up  the  critters,  to  have  'em  ready.  War-path 
waits,  jedgin'  by  the  smell  o'  that  old  hat." 

"  Going  to  take  the  packs?  "  asked  Chet,  first. 


"DANCING    MEDICINE"  183 

"  No.  Those  who  travel  the  war-trail  travel  light. 
We'll  leave  mule  an'  bald-tail  hos,  cache  what  we  can't 
carry  in  our  meat-bags  an'  on  saddle,  an'  live  off  the 
country.  That's  white  Injun  style." 


CHAPTER   XIV 

ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL 

BY  the  time  the  saddle  animals  had  been  rounded  up, 
driven  in,  and  tethered,  Dan  was  busy  at  the  fire  and 
the  pelt  of  the  black  wolf  had  been  spread-eagled,  skin 
side  out,  against  the  front  of  the  cabin.  The  breakfast, 
for  boys  and  man,  was  fried  venison  and  boiled  coffee. 
For  Bonita  it  was  the  remnant  of  the  cold  shoulder, 
from  the  evening  before. 

They  made  a  good  start,  for  the  sun  was  not  much 
more  than  an  hour  high  over  Warrior  Peak,  and  the 
time  was  not  later  than  six  o'clock,  when,  old  Dan 
leading,  Chet  next,  Phil  at  the  rear,  and  Bonita  now 
upon  one  flank,  now  the  other,  they  took  the  trail  out- 
ward. 

The  contents  of  the  cabin  had  been  returned  to  the 
cache,  and  in  the  cache  had  been  placed  the  other  stores. 
The  door  of  the  cabin  had  been  closed,  the  entrance 
of  the  cache  had  been  sealed.  And  leaving  the 
pelt  of  the  black  wolf  to  guard  the  premises,  while 
Betty  the  dun  mule  and  Cotton-tail  the  Bar  B  horse 
oversaw  the  vicinity  beyond,  the  white  Injuns  rode 
away  upon  the  scout.  With  buffalo-robe  and  meat 
behind  the  saddle,  with  rifle  across  the  saddle  and 
buckskin  in  the  saddle,  they  might  cut  loose  without 
misgivings.  But  at  the  edge  of  the  little  clearing  old 

184 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  185 

Dan  hesitated,  to  wag  his  head  and  glance  behind,  at 
a  shrill  bray  from  the  dun  mule.  The  horses  whinnied 
back. 

"  Don't  know  as  that  critter  o'  mine'll  stay  put,  after 
all,"  complained  old  Dan,  querulously.  "  She  likes  to 
come  along,  she  do;  an'  she  follows  a  scent,  good  as 
any  dawg.  Listen  at  her !  Lonesome  already !  "  But 
he  rode  on. 

As  old  Dan  had  stated,  the  route  was  not  up  the 
mountain  and  over,  by  the  route  which  the  boys  had 
taken  yesterday.  Pursuing  a  winding  trail,  in  the  lead 
he  skirted  the  base  of  the  mountain,  through  the 
ancient  timber  where  stood  primeval  spruce  and  pine 
apparently  untouched  by  hand  of  man,  until,  at  a  gulch 
running  down,  he  turned  in.  So  did  the  trail. 
Evidently  this  was  a  trail  traveled  by  him  many  a 
time. 

It  took  them  higher  and  higher,  by  way  of  the  gulch, 
and  brought  them  out  upon  a  long  ridge  forming  one 
edge  of  it.  Now  the  vegetation  already  was  growing 
scant;  for  the  gulch  evidently  had  been  a  short  cut. 
Ahead,  at  the  end  of  a  magnificent  rolling  incline  ex- 
tending in  a  swale  to  the  curve  of  a  shallow  '  U,'  was 
the  crest  of  Warrior  Peak.  Behind  and  below  was 
that  other  world  where  the  black  wolf  pelt,  like  a 
token,  guarded  a  dilapidated  cabin,  and  where,  it  had 
been  expected  would  be  grazing  and  resting  Betty  the 
dun  mule,  attended  by  Cotton-tail  her  satellite. 

Grizzly  Dan  peered  down,  earnestly ;  peered  also  the 
two  boys.  He  shook  his  head. 

"  She'll  come,"  he  said.    "  She's  runnin'  'round  with 


i86  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

her  ears  up,  now.    Wall,  can't  be  helped.    That  bald- 
tail  hos  o'  yourn'll  come,  too,  then." 

"Does  she  always  follow  you  up?"  asked  Phil, 
amused. 

"  Who  ?  Betty?  Always — when  she  can.  She  air  a 
pesky  critter,  that  way,"  declared  old  Dan;  but  he 
chuckled,  as  if  not  so  much  displeased  as  he  would 
assume. 

The  sun  still  was  far  from  the  zenith  when,  at  the 
summit,  Dan's  spotted  pony  halted,  and  converging 
upon  him,  Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye  also  halted.  The 
animals  heaved  sighs ;  Bonita  sat  down ;  the  boys,  imi- 
tating old  Dan's  attitude,  rested  in  the  saddle  and  gazed 
abroad. 

"  Is  this  Blackfoot  Pass?  "  asked  diet. 

"  This  air  Blackfoot  Pass,  whar  the  Blackfeet  from 
the  north  crossed  on  their  way  south  to  steal  hosses 
from  the  mountain  Injuns.  Sioux  used  it,  too." 

"  And  we're  on  the  upper  side  of  the  Warrior's 
knees  ?  "  queried  Phil. 

*  That's  how  I  calkilate.  Yesterday  you  war  on 
lower  side,  on  his  shins.  But  this  air  the  easier  pass 
over.  Thar's  an  old  Ute  trail,  down  below,  that  we'll 
strike.  I  know  all  these  hyar  trails ;  they  never  change, 
till  they  fade  out.  An'  it  takes  a  long  time  for  a  trail, 
once  made,  to  fade  out — although  Nature  does  her 
best.  Elk  keep  this  hyar  Blackfoot  trail  open;  an' 
deer  use  lots  o'  the  trails.  Reckon  deer  used  'em  fust — 
deer  an'  elk  an'  buff'ler.  Wagh — ain't  that  thar 
smoke,  over  yonder,  'bout  whar  we're  headin'  ?  "  He 
shaded  his  eyes,  and  peered  into  the  country  below. 


'WHERE  D    YOU    GET    THAT    PIECE    O     WAGON-HOOD     FRAME?"1 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  187 

"Where?" 

"  Over  yonder.  Above  that  patch  o'  timber,  whar 
we're  bound  for." 

"This  first  patch?" 

"  No,  boy,  no !  Yonder,  across,  'bout  twenty  mile, 
near  whar  you  found  that  plundered  camp  yesterday. 
Airn't  that  smoke — camp-fire  smoke?  " 

"  Huh !  "  muttered  Chet,  chagrined,  as  he  gazed 
hard.  "  Don't  believe  I  see  it." 

Phil,  likewise  straining  his  eyes,  to  focus  them  upon 
the  farther  woodland,  had  to  confess  that  he  believed 
the  same  of  himself.  And  who  could  distinguish, 
from  a  mountain-top,  camp-fire  smoke  distant  twenty 
miles  air-line  across  a  wilderness  of  trees  and  ridges! 
In  such  an  expanse  a  burning  business-block  would 
make  scarce  a  smudge.  But  old  Dan  saw. 

"  Smoke,"  he  declared.  "Whar  air  yore  eyes?  It 
air  plain  as  this  mountain.  Have  to  look  into  that. 
Ketch  up,  ketch  up.  We  be  warriors,  not  talkin' 
squaws."  And  down  from  the  summit  plunged  old 
Dan,  the  two  other  white  Injuns  falling  in  behind  him. 

It  was  a  glorious  ride — superior  to  that  of  yesterday. 
The  sun  seemed  brighter,  the  sky  even  bluer,  the  air 
even  crisper  and  clearer,  the  vistas  even  wider;  and 
the  pace  was  surer,  for  there  was  no  need  to  think  upon 
getting  back  before  dark.  And  before  was  a  mystery — 
perhaps  danger !  Phil  drew  deep,  happy  breaths ;  and 
he  and  Chet  sat  erect,  carbine  and  rifle  across  horn,  and 
from  under  their  handkerchief  turbans  kept  keen  out- 
look, as  white  Injuns  should.  Verily,  this  was  trapper 
life  at  its  best. 


i88  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Nothing  escaped  old  Dan.  The  slope  of  the 
mountain  gradually  flowed  into  the  lower  country; 
and  having  crossed  a  last  little  rise,  into  a  draw 
which  skirted  its  foot,  emerged  from  this  old  Dan 
suddenly  pulled  short  his  spotted  pony  and  raised  a 
fringed  arm  as  warning.  He  beckoned  to  the  boys  to 
join  him. 

"  Wagh !  "  announced  old  Dan,  nodding  before  him. 
"Thar  it  air!  Thar's  sign,  to  go  with  yore  Injun's 
hat !  Party  has  passed  by  hyar  no  long  time  ago.  See 
those  thar  pony  tracks  ?  " 

The  faint  trail  which  they  had  been  riding,  over  the 
crest  and  down,  crossed  here  at  right  angles  another 
and  stronger  trail — and  a  trail  which  anybody  might 
know  had  recently  been  traveled.  Hoof  marks  were 
impressed  upon  it.  However,  hoof  marks  were  nothing 
at  which  to  be  astonished. 

"  They  shore  are  hawss  tracks,"  agreed  Chet. 
"  But  we  leave  hawss  tracks  ourselves,  don't  we  ?  " 

"  Tracks  like  these  on  this  old  Ute  trail  don't  shine 
with  this  coon,"  muttered  Grizzly  Dan,  blinking  hard 
tinder  his  bushy  brows,  as  he  studied  the  prints. 
'  'Specially  after  that  plundered  wagon  an'  that  hat. 
'Course,  hyar  air  lodge-poles,"  and  he  pointed  at  the 
trace  of  a  heavy  stake  or  similar  object  having  been 
dragged  along,  making  a  furrow.  "  But  sign  air  bad, 
boys.  This  hyar  trail  leads  straight  for  that  flat  whar 
you  come  onto  the  wagon  tracks,  an'  they  all  j'ine  to- 
gether for  that  old  pack-trail  whar  you  found  the  camp. 
It  air  four  mile  yet.  Let's  ride  on  a  bit  an*  study  this 
out." 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  189 

So,  at  one  side  of  the  trail,  as  it  traversed  the  brush 
and  sod,  they  proceeded  slowly. 

"  Unshod  ponies,"  commented  old  Dan.  "  All 
keepin'  to  the  trail,  an'  must  have  been  a  dozen. 
Wagh !  What  air  that !  "  he  exclaimed,  whirling 
quickly  in  his  saddle.  Whirled  also  the  two  boys,  with 
click  of  Phil's  carbine  lock.  But— "  It  air  Betty!" 
chuckled  old  Dan,  as  with  bray  and  clatter  the  dun 
mule,  followed  by  the  faithful  Cotton-tail,  came  trot- 
ting fast,  protesting  at  being  deserted.  "  It  air  Betty ! 
An'  she  smells  Injun.  She  knows!  An'  hyar,"  he  said 
abruptly,  "  if  you  want  other  proof."  And  reaching 
aside  he  plucked  from  a  bush  a  strip  of  woolen  cloth. 
"Government  blanketin'!  That's  what  it  air!"  He 
sniffed  at  it.  "  Wagh!  That  trail  air  Injun  trail  for 
sartin.  Only  one  lodge,  'less  they  carry  tents,  too ;  so 
mebbe  only  one  or  two  squaws,  rest  bucks.  Looks  like 
htintin'  party,  with  squaws  to  do  the  butcherin' ;  or 
perhaps  goin'  on  a  visit.  But  spring  air  a  ticklish  time 
with  Injuns.  When  the  cottonwood  buds  on  the  plains, 
an'  when  the  aspen  leaves  out  in  the  hills,  then  some- 
thin'  bids  the  Injun  ketch  his  pony  an'  travel,  for  by 
the  sign  he  knows  thar's  grass  for  pony  feed.  Used 
to  be  that  the  spring  war  the  time  for  the  young  men  to 
go  hos-stealin'  an'  scalp-huntin',  to  make  good  their 
winter  struts  'mong  the  young  squaws.  Nowadays 
Injuns  have  to  take  it  out  in  visitin' — but  the  young 
men  still  air  bustin'  for  excitement,  some  o'  them;  an* 
thar  air  old  men  who  ain't  forgot  days  gone  by.  That's 
only  natteral." 

"  Do  you  think  these  Indians  on  this  trail  attacked 


190  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

that  camp?"  asked  Chet.  "They  wouldn't  do  that, 
would  they  ?  " 

"  Wall,  white  men  make  trouble ;  why  shouldn't  the 
Injuns?  They're  both  only  human,"  replied  old  Dan. 
"  This  air  a  wild  country  in  hyar,  an'  Injuns  had  it 
fust,  an'  some  o'  them  think  they  ought  to  have  it  yet. 
But  we'll  see,  we'll  see,  if  we  ride  the  ride  to  the  end. 
That  smoke'll  tell  us  a  heap." 

"  These  are  Utes,  are  they?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Reckon  so.    Off  their  reservation,  on  a  leetle  trip." 

At  steady  jog,  with  old  Dan  maintaining  keen  eyes 
upon  the  sign  in  the  trail  and  upon  the  country  to  right 
and  left,  the  three  scouts  continued — Betty,  Cotton-tail, 
and  Bonita  trotting  soberly  behind.  The  trail,  dis- 
playing those  unmistakable  tokens  of  recent  use,  course 
now  winding,  now  straightaway,  extended  through 
brush  and  timber,  and  gradually  the  base  of  Warrior 
Peak  was  put  farther  in  the  distance.  Then,  after  an 
hour  of  the  silent,  steady  riding,  with  each  turn  of  the 
trail  revealing  only  the  same  peaceful  stretch  ahead 
through  an  apparently  peaceful  country,  old  Dan 
again  reined  his  pony  short  and  pointed  down. 

"  Told  ye,"  he  said.  "  Thar's  the  wagon-track,  an' 
tracks  o'  the  hosses;  an'  hyar's  whar  the  Injun  trail 
j'ines  it.  See?  They  go  on  together.  Wagh!  I 
knowed  it.  Injuns  stopped  a  minute,  on  the  edge,  to 
consider;  see?  Then  they  turned  in  sharp,  to  follow 
it.  Reg'lar  trail  turns  a  leetle  further  on ;  but  I  reckon 
they  war  curious  over  a  wagon  trail  in  this  hyar  place, 
an'  after  it  they  went." 

"  And  they  attacked  the  camp!  " 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  191 

Old  Dan  was  clapping  the  lock-plate  of  his  long 
rifle,  to  settle  the  priming  in  the  pan. 

"  Wall,"  he  drawled  quietly,  "  mought  have  been, 
onct.  Day  o'  massacree  air  past,  now — but  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  some  white  folks  travelin'  through  hyar  got 
powerful  scared.  Injuns  have  a  heap  o*  fun  out  o' 
scarin'  greenhorns,  they  do.  But  we'll  ride  on.  They 
don't  scare  this  chile.  He's  fout  Injun  before,  an'  he's 
half  Injun,  himself.  Wagh !  " 

Chet  was  a  little  pale,  under  his  tan ;  and  Phil  sur- 
mised that  his  own  color  was  suspicious.  Instructed 
by  the  old  trapper's  words  he  could  read  the  sign  for 
himself ;  and  he  could  picture  that  here,  on  the  edge  of 
the  brush,  where  cut  the  flat  which  further  on  he  and 
Chet  had  encountered,  the  traveling  Indians  had  sud- 
denly come  upon  the  wagon-tracks ;  that  the  foremost 
(perhaps  the  chief)  had  halted  at  once,  and  that  the 
others  had  gathered  about  him,  in  a  council ;  that,  as  if 
by  agreement,  they  all  had  turned  into  the  wagon-track, 
and  had  proceeded  with  it,  instead  of  continuing  by  the 
older  trail  which  crossed  it. 

Utes!  Phil  could  imagine  the  motley  line — men  in 
buckskins  or  overalls,  with  slouch  hat  or  ornamented 
sombrero ;  with  quirt  and  rifle ;  women  bareheaded  and 
blanketed ;  children  astride  or  in  blanket  folds ;  ponies 
of  all  markings,  and  dogs  of  mongrel  breed.  For  with 
such  a  rude  cavalry  had  not  he  himself  traveled,  as  his 
initiation  into  the  West? 

"  Maybe  it's  Chief  Billy  and  his  band  again,"  he 
vouchsafed  to  Chet. 

"Maybe,"  grunted  Chet.     "That  Chief  Billy  is 


192  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

shore  bad.  They  say  he's  worse  thar,.  ever  since  he 
got  cured  up  from  his  last  fight." 

"  When  Hungry  Joe  shot  him?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That  was  a  long  shot." 

Chet  nodded.  He  and  Phil  were  not  tenderfeet ;  not 
they!  They  had  not  fought  the  battles  that  old  Dan 
had  "  fout,"  but  one  Indian  scrimmage  was  upon 
their  battle-list — the  scrimmage  when,  down  in  New 
Mexico,  during  the  great  cattle-drive  of  the  Bar  B 
two  summers  before,  the  raiding  Utes  and  Apaches 
had  been  stopped  by  the  Bar  B  and  the  New  Mexican 
Rangers.  Not  many  boys  of  this  day  and  age  have 
taken  part  in  a  real  Indian  battle,  and  now  riding  the 
hostile  trail,  in  his  buckskins  and  handkerchief  turban, 
Phil  felt  like  a  veteran.  Old  Dan  might  not  be  ap- 
preciative, but  nevertheless  he  was  being  well  sup- 
ported. 

Presently  they  passed  the  spot  where  the  trail  of 
yesterday  entered  from  the  brush  into  the  flat,  and  also 
joined  the  trail  of  the  wagon.  Now  it  was  not  far  to 
the  end  of  the  flat,  where  the  timber  began,  and  where, 
beyond  a  short  distance,  by  the  old  pack-trail  which 
looked  like  an  abandoned  wood-road,  had  been  the 
camp.  Old  Dan  rode  at  the  steady  jog,  his  white  hair 
floating  in  the  breeze,  his  fringes  lifting  and  falling, 
his  deadly  rifle  across  saddle-horn.  Chet  and  Phil 
followed;  and  Betty  and  Cotton-tail  thudded  con- 
tentedly at  the  rear. 

The  leader  needed  no  directions ;  he  had  been  here- 
abouts many  a  time  before.  Besides,  the  wrecked 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  193 

wagon  showed  plainly,  as  yesterday,  and  he  saw  it  as 
soon  as  did  the  boys  again.  At  the  camp  site  he  halted ; 
halted  Chet  and  Phil.  All  surveyed. 

"  Wagh !  "  muttered  the  old  trapper,  his  eyes  rov- 
ing rapidly  over  ground  and  wagon.  "  Signs  don't  tell 
much.  Warn't  no  fracas,  I  jedge.  We'll  ride  on  a  bit. 
This  coon  'spects  he'll  know  more  further  along.  In- 
juns passed  on — see?  Wagon  stayed.  But  if 
you'll  look  sharp,  you'll  read  pony  tracks  both 
comin'  an'  goin'.  Thar's  another  campin'  spot,  'bout 
two  mile  ahead;  better  one  than  this  'ere.  This 
spring  carries  sulphur,  an'  Injuns  and  trappers  didn't 
use  it." 

They  retook  the  trail,  old  Dan  peering  alertly.  The 
trail  was  just  about  wide  enough  for  a  wagon  to  pass. 
The  thickly  growing  timber  hedged  it  close,  so  that 
it  seemed  a  lane  among  the  serried  trunks  of  fir  and 
pine.  Occasionally  was  visible,  upon  a  trunk  beside 
the  route,  a  gash  or  wound  almost  closed  over,  as  if  de- 
noting a  guiding  blaze. 

The  soil  was  soft  to  the  foot ;  the  timber  around  was 
mysteriously  silent ;  and  Phil  wondered  if  this  was  not 
an  excellent  place  for  an  ambush.  He  fingered  his  car- 
bine, and  he  noticed  that  Chet  also  rode  nervously. 
But  old  Dan  apparently  was  not  fearing  a  surprise, 
and  revealed  no  especial  symptom  until,  in  the  midst 
of  the  route,  he  stopped  for  his  companions  to  hear 
what  he  was  about  to  say. 

"  This  coon  thinks  he'll  do  a  leetle  reconnoiterin' 
afoot,"  informed  old  Dan  in  monotonous  undertone. 
"  Sign  air  gettin'  too  fresh.  He  smells  smoke,  an* 


I94  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

barefoot  ponies  have  passed  hyar  this  mornin'.  So 
this  coon  knows  a  short  cut  which'll  take  him  whar  he 
can  see  a  heap  o'  country." 

Mumbling  to  himself,  he  slipped  from  his  pony. 
Again  looking  into  the  priming  of  his  rifle,  he  closed 
the  pan  and  with  scarcely  a  sound  plunged  amidst  the 
brush  and  timber  bordering  the  trail.  He  moved  so 
rapidly  and  so  smoothly  that  almost  at  once  was  he  lost 
to  sight;  and  the  boys,  upon  Pepper  and  Medicine 
Eye,  were  left  with  only  his  spotted  pony  as  re- 
minder. Betty,  pricking  her  long  ears,  gazed  after 
anxiously,  as  if  tempted  to  follow.  But  she  re- 
mained, sighed,  and  nibbled  at  the  bordering  bushes, 
for  forage. 

The  horses  tried  to  crop ;  Bonita  wandered  away,  up 
the  trail;  and  relaxing,  Phil  and  Chet  dismounted,  to 
ease  their  muscles.  They  strolled  idly,  keeping  pace 
with  the  horses,  and  holding  to  the  dangling  bridle- 
lines.  For  this  was  "  Injun  "  country,  and  there  might 
be  instant  need  of  saddle  in  this  soft,  silent,  lonely 
forest  avenue. 

"  Look  at  Bonita !  "  suddenly  warned  Chet,  sharply. 
"  What's  the  matter  with  her?  Scared  by  something, 
isn't  she?" 

"Acts  that  way.     Here,  Bonita!" 

"  Mule  notices,  too !    See  her  ears  ?  " 

As  he  spoke,  Chet  was  already  swinging  aboard 
Medicine  Eye;  and  gathering  his  lines,  Phil  hastily 
swung  aboard  Pepper.  Chet  held  the  lines  of  the 
spotted  pony.  For  here  came,  at  skulking  trot,  back 
down  the  trail,  Bonita.  Anon  she  paused,  briefly 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  195 

looked  behind  her,  and  dropping  her  ears  resumed 
her  pace,  as  if  in  retreat  from  some  alarming  ob- 
ject 

"  Bear,  maybe,"  muttered  Chet.  "  Watch  sharp  for 
a  stampede." 

"May  be  Old  Four-Toes!"  added  Phil,  tensely. 
"  About  time  for  him  to  show  'round  again.  What'll 
we  do?" 

"  Depends  on  what  he  does,"  answered  Chet,  stub- 
born. 

"  Horses  hear  it  or  smell  it." 

Bonita  had  arrived,  to  take  stand  almost  under 
Pepper,  whence  she  growled  angrily;  all  the  animals 
pricked  their  ears  up  the  trail,  and  stared  with  lifted 
heads — either  following  blindly  the  suggestion  of 
Betty  or  else  actually  aroused  by  their  own  instincts. 
As  for  Betty  the  mule,  she  stood  planted,  nostrils  dis- 
tended, great  ears  jutting  forward,  eyes  wide,  her 
whole  being  intent  upon  what,  yet  unseen,  was  ap- 
proaching. 

It  was  an  uncertain  moment — but  only  a  moment, 
for  now  around  the  turn  in  the  trail,  beyond,  appeared 
at  rapid  trot  two  horsemen.  And 

"  Injun!  "  exclaimed  Chet,  instantly. 

"Ute?" 

"  Reckon  so." 

Betty  the  mule  snorted,  and  backed  to  one  side, 
showing  symptoms  of  flight.  Bonita  growled.  The 
two  riders,  at  the  turn,  had  pulled  up,  surprised;  but 
now  they  came  on  again. 

"  Young  bucks,"  muttered  Chet.     "  I'm  going  to 


196  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

talk  with  them.  You  back  me  up  so  they  don't  get 
past." 

Young  bucks  they  were,  proving  Chet's  quick  eye- 
sight; two  youths  about  seventeen  or  eighteen.  They 
were  naked  from  the  waist  up,  their  bronze-tinged, 
smoothly  muscled  bodies  showing  finely  in  the  vista  of 
the  trail.  The  lower  half  of  each  was  clad  in  old 
trousers  with  fringes  sewed  on,  for  the  legs,  and  in 
moccasins  for  the  feet.  One  wore  a  cartridge  belt  and 
carried  a  rifle;  the  other  carried  a  short  bow.  Their 
black  hair,  drawn  tight  into  long  braids  down  the 
shoulders,  was  painted  at  the  part  with  red  vermilion, 
and  their  faces  were  decorated,  by  streak  and  spot,  with 
vermilion  and  blue. 

They  rode  jauntily  down  the  green  forest  trail,  be- 
traying no  inclination  to  stop;  but  as  they  arrived 
Chet  spurred  Medicine  Eye  farther  out  into  the  road ; 
Phil  turned  Pepper  broadside ;  and  the  way  was  closed. 
Bonita  growled,  Betty  snorted  and  backed,  Cotton- 
tail imitated  her,  but,  holding  Medicine  Eye  in  place, 
Chet  greeted  gruffly : 

"How?" 

"  How-do  ?  "  grunted  the  two  Indians,  halting. 

"How?"  proffered  Phil 

The  opposing  pairs,  red  and  white,  examined  one 
another  curiously. 

"  Where  is  camp?  "  asked  Chet. 

The  two  Indians  shook  their  heads. 

"  No  savvy,"  they  grunted. 

"Ute?"  asked  Chet. 

They  nodded. 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  197 

"You  know  Chief  Billy?" 

"No  savvy,"  replied  one,  slender  and  coppery;  a 
handsome  lad,  with  regular  features  ornamented  by 
blue  half-moons  and  circles  of  vermilion. 

"Where's  Charley  Pow-wow?" 

"  No  savvy,"  persisted  the  spokesman. 

"  Goocl-hy,"  attempted  the  other,  square-built  (like 
Chet),  dark,  sullen-looking,  his  flat  face  striped  and 
daubed.  He  forced  his  horse  forward  a  few  steps,  as 
signal. 

But  Chet  had  been  growing  flushed,  token  of  exas- 
peration. 

"  No  savvy,  your  grandmother !  "  he  blurted  rudely. 
"  You  understand  English  as  well  as  I  do.  Where's 
camp  ?  Isn't  there  a  camp  around  here  somewhere  ?  " 

The  face  of  the  good-looking  Indian — he  with  the 
half-moons  for  decoration — betrayed  just  the  glimmer 
of  a  smile ;  but  the  face  of  his  companion,  the  stoutish, 
dark  youth,  clouded  more. 

"  No,"  he  grunted.  "  No  savvy.  Good-by."  And 
he  again  kicked  his  pony  with  moccasined  heel,  forcing 
him  forward. 

"  Good-by/'  chimed  in  the  other,  likewise  attempting 
passage. 

But  Chet  was  now  thoroughly  aroused.  He  held 
Medicine  Eye  squarely  across  the  trail,  and  Phil  oc- 
cupied the  space  behind  him. 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  informed  Chet,  his  chin  thrust 
out.  He  sat  solidly  writh  his  knees  clasped  against 
Medicine  Eye's  sides.  "  You  don't  get  past  here  till 
you  act  decent.  'Twon't  hurt  you  any  to  answer  a 


10,8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

civil  question.  We  want  to  find  a  camp.  Where's 
a  camp,  'round  here?  " 

Both  Indians  now  flushed  darkly 

"  No,  you  don't !  "  repeated  Chet,  cocking  his  rifle. 
"Look  out,  Phil!  Watch  the  slim  one!"  And  he 
addressed  the  Indians  again,  broadly  as  when  excited : 
"  You  keep  yore  fingers  off  knife  an'  trigger,  savvy 
that?  An'  don't  yuh  butt  into  us  with  those  hawsses, 
either !  Yuh  won't  move  an  inch  till  we  know  what's 
what.  There's  a  camp  'round  here  ?  Where  you  from 
an'  where  you  going  ?  An'  where'd  you  get  that  piece 
o'  wagon-hood  frame,  for  that  bow  ?  " 

The  click  of  Phil's  carbine  lock  had  answered  the 
click  from  Chet's  rifle.  With  Pepper  obliquely  turned 
to  breast  the  Indians'  advance,  he  was  determined  to 
support  his  partner  to  the  limit.  What  that  limit 
might  be  was  dubious,  save  that  things  looked  squally. 
Chet  was  as  dauntless  and  as  obstinate  in  defense  or 
offensive,  when  he  thought  himself  right,  as  was  that 
veteran  plainsman  and  rancher  Mr.  Siinms,  his  father. 
For  the  bow  in  question — sure  enough  it  did  bear 
suspicious  resemblance  to  a  section  of  hickory  or  ash 
wagon-hood  frame! 

The  eyes  of  both  Indians  were  blazing,  their  forms 
were  tense,  and  a  few  guttural  words  passed  from  one 
to  the  other,  as  of  exhortation.  Phil  watched  the  hand 
of  his  special  opponent  creeping  toward  the  knife  in 
the  trousers'  belt,  and  was  about  to  stop  it  (if  he 
could),  when  the  tableau  was  interrupted  by  a  keen 
hiss  from  the  brush  skirting  the  trail. 

The  eyes  of  all  involuntarily  jumped  for  the  spot 


ON    THE    WAR-TRAIL  199 

Phil  saw,  to  his  relief,  the  figure  of  the  old  trapper 
rising  behind  the  muzzle  of  Sally,  which  pointed  like 
an  accusing  finger  at  the  group. 

"  Wagh !  "  spoke  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Do'ee  boys  back 
up  a  leetle,  an'  do  'ee  young  bucks  stay  right  whar  you 
be.  Now,  what  air  this  fracas  about  ?  " 

The  two  Indians  evidently  did  understand  English, 
for  they  obeyed  old  Dan's  words  and  moved  not. 

"  It's  about  that  bow  carried  by  that  slim  one,"  an- 
swered Chet,  bluntly.  "  That's  made  from  a  wagon- 
hood  frame,  and  we  want  to  know  where  he  got  it. 
Says  he  doesn't  *  savvy.'  But  he  does,  all  the  same." 

"  I've  seen  ha'r-raisin'  for  less'n  that,  in  my  day," 
quoth  Grizzly  Dan,  stepping  warily  out.  "  Hold  'em, 
till  I  get  on  my  hos.  Wagh !  Now  lemme  talk."  And 
in  throaty  accents  he  addressed  the  two  youths. 

The  slim  one  sullenly  replied,  while  the  dark  one 
glowered  back  at  Chet.  A  short  conversation  in 
Indian  ensued,  between  Grizzly  Dan  and  the  one  youth. 

"  We  asked  them  where  camp  was,  too,"  explained 
Phil. 

"  It's  yonder,  over  the  hill.  I  saw  it,"  announced  the 
old  trapper.  "  He  says  he  got  this  hyar  hickory  by 
trade,  from  'nother  Injun.  They  war  jest  ridin'  down 
the  trail  a  piece,  when  you  stopped  'em  hyar.  We'll  go 
on  to  the  village.  Guess  we'd  better  take  'em  along." 

The  two  Indians  nodded,  and  wheeled  their  ponies ; 
and  side  by  side  with  Grizzly  Dan  rode  back  up  the 
trail,  Chet  and  Phil  side  by  side  behind,  Betty  and 
Cotton-tail  disgustedly  following,  Bonita  ambling  at 
one  side. 


CHAPTER  XV 

OLD    FRIENDS   RED   AND   WHITE 

THE  aisle  through  the  quiet  timber  extended  onward 
for  half  a  mile.  Chet  and  Phil  did  not  speak  a  word, 
but  Grizzly  Dan  occasionally  exchanged  a  low  word  or 
two  in  Ute  with  the  Indian  boys  beside  him.  So  they 
jogged,  three  in  buckskins,  two  half-naked,  with  rifles 
and  with  bow,  the  unsaddled  horse  and  mule,  and 
Bonita  the  dog,  soberly  following:  a  little  party  such 
as  must  have  often  ridden  the  trail  when  the  trail  was 
new. 

Now  the  timber  opened,  and  from  the  old  trail  a 
fresher  trail,  recently  trodden  by  many  hoofs,  veered 
to  the  right.  Into  this  Grizzly  Dan,  with  the  two  boys, 
turned  off.  He  quickened  his  spotted  pony  into  a  faster 
trot.  The  trail  rounded  over  a  swell,  and  before  and 
below  lay  a  sagy  park,  dotted  with  a  dozen  dingy  tents 
and  alive  with  many  figures,  persons  and  horses. 
From  camp-fires  smoke  ascended  lazily.  Through  the 
brush  flowed  a  stream,  as  evidenced  by  the  line  of 
clump  willows,  from  above  resembling  a  row  of  large 
gooseberry  bushes. 

"  Indians!  "  exclaimed  Chet.     "  Lot  of  'em,  too!  " 

Now  down  at  full  gallop  plunged  the  two  young 
bucks,  riding  recklessly. 

"  Gwan,    then!"    called    old    Dan    after    them. 

200 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    201 

"  You're  too  young  to  have  manners,  anyhow !  "  And 
he  warned,  to  Chet  and  Phil,  "  Keep  back,  now,  whilst 
I  make  the  proper  signs." 

Rapidly  tugging  free  the  buffalo  robe  which  he  car- 
ried tied  behind  his  saddle,  shaking  it  out  with  one 
sinewy  hand  he  flourished  it  like  a  banner.  White 
it  gleamed  in  graceful  circle  and  sweep,  as  he  repeated. 
Suddenly  he  tucked  it  across  his  lap,  enfolding  the 
lower  part  of  his  body. 

"  Thar!  "  he  grunted,  as  if  satisfied,  although  Phil 
could  not  see  that  any  answering  signal  had  come 
from  the  camp.  "  The  old  Injuns  in  camp'll  know 
we  airn't  heathen.  Wagh !  Come  on,  lively. 
Whoopee !  "  And  down  the  hill  plunged  Dan,  hair 
streaming,  spotted  pony  leaping  stiff-legged,  while  the 
iron  pot  thumped  him  lustily! 

"  Wagh !  Come  on !  "  bade  Chet,  to  Phil ;  and  after 
the  old  trapper  bolted  the  two  boys,  imitating. 

It  was  hard  riding — this  galloping  downhill ;  as  hard 
as  sitting  a  bucking  horse.  But  if  it  was  trapper  eti- 
quette, to  enter  a  camp  on  the  run,  then  who  cared  for 
the  jar? 

"Bang!"  sounded  Dan's  rifle,  into  the  air;  and 
"Bang!  Bang!  "  spoke  the  rifle  of  Chet  and  the  car- 
bine of  Phil. 

However,  as  he  rode,  at  breakneck  pace,  Grizzly  Dan 
reloaded.  It  was  not  his  policy  to  be  long  with  empty 
gun. 

The  bottom  of  the  slope  was  reached,  and  old  Dan 
pulled  his  spotted  pony  to  a  trot.  "  Close  up,"  he 
ordered,  over  his  shoulder.  "  Close  up  an'  keep  to- 


202  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

gether.  We've  showed  'em  we  come  as  friends,  but 
thar's  no  use  invitin'  'em  to  take  our  scalps.  Keep 
together,  an'  don't  act  afraid ;  an'  have  yore  ears  turned 
both  ways  an'  eyes  in  the  back  o'  yore  head." 

Their  spectacular  approach  seemed  not  to  have  oc- 
casioned any  great  excitement  in  the  camp,  except 
among  two  persons  and  the  dogs.  As  for  the  rest,  the 
squaws,  busy  about  camp-fires,  only  glanced  covertly, 
the  bucks,  lounging  about  in  blankets  or  trousers  and 
•shirts,  gazed  stolidly,  and  here  and  there  children  and 
babies  stared,  unwinking  and  shy.  The  two  persons 
were  two  girls,  in  khaki  skirts  and  dark  blue  blouses, 
who  were  dancing  up  and  down  before  a  tent  and  were 
waving  handkerchiefs;  and  a  score  of  dogs  rushed, 
growling  and  bristling,  for  the  abashed  and  bristling 
Bonita. 

"  See  the  girls! "  said  Phil,  to  Cher. 

"White  girls!    Say—!" 

And 

"  Say — !  "  agreed  Chet,  interested  and  astonished. 

But  from  the  center  of  the  camp,  which  was  at  the 
stream,  had  advanced,  with  waddle  and  wheeze,  yet 
with  dignity  and  strength,  a  fat,  bow-legged  Indian, 
pigeon-toed  in  his  moccasins.  Ragged  trousers  and 
a  soiled  gingham  shirt  united  by  a  silver-studded 
leathern  belt  completed  his  attire,  to  a  long-barred 
feather  stuck  through  the  juncture  of  braids  and 
scalp. 

"There's  Chief  Billy!"  exclaimed  Chet. 

"  Quiet!  "  rebuked  old  Dan.     "  I'll  do  the  talkin'." 

Sure  enough  it  was  Chief  Billy,  head  chief  of  all  the 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    203 

Southern  Utes:  a  little  fatter,  maybe,  a  little  older, 
than  when,  three  years  before,  Phil,  about  to  enter 
Bar  B  life,  had  first  seen  him,  but  nevertheless  the  same 
burly,  heavy-featured,  thin-lipped  dignitary. 

Dan  dismounted  and  stood  waiting. 

"How?"  grunted  Chief  Billy.  He  shook  hands, 
and  reaching  up  shook  hands  with  Phil  and  Chet,  as  if 
they  might  be  strangers.  His  face  betrayed  not  a 
symptom  of  recognition. 

"  How  ?  "  answered  Grizzly  Dan ;  and  followed  with 
a  sentence  in  guttural  Ute. 

Chief  Billy  grunted  a  short  answer,  and  turned 
away. 

"  Get  off  yore  hosses  an'  leave  'em  an'  come  with 
me,"  bade  Grizzly  Dan  to  the  boys.  "  We're  goin'  to 
the  chief's  lodge.  Everything's  all  right.  He'll  have 
the  hosses  taken  keer  of." 

But  there  occurred  an  interruption.  The  two  girls 
in  the  khaki  skirts  were  running  forward,  now  waving 
hands  instead  of  handkerchiefs,  and  apparently  over- 
joyed. 

"Phil!  Chet!"  they  called. 

"  That's  who  it  is,  all  right!  "  ejaculated  Phil. 

"  I  know  it !  "  replied  Chet.  "  There's  Cherry— and 
the  other  one's  Molly,  isn't  it?" 

"  Shore  is,"  confirmed  Phil. 

"  We're  prisoners !  You  must  rescue  us !  "  panted 
the  first  girl  to  arrive.  She  was  an  alert,  tanned  girl, 
with  blooming  cheeks  and  a  pair  of  brown  eyes  as  wide 
and  as  direct  as  Chet's — only  softer.  This  was  Cherry 
Bronson,  who  had  been  adopted  by  Chet's  father,  on 


204  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

the  Bar  B  ranch,  before  she  found  her  father  the 
professor. 

"  Yes ;  and  so  glad  to  meet  you  again.  So 
romantic !  "  panted  the  second  girl,  who  was  slenderer, 
with  oval  face  and  long-lashed  violet  eyes.  This  was 
Mistress  Molly  Gibson,  Cherry's  friend,  met  for  the 
first  time  last  summer  on  the  summer  sheep  range  of 
the  Circle  K. 

"  Come  along,  come  along,"  growled  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  How  air  ye,  gals  ?  But  come  along,  boys.  Can't 
stop  to  talk  now.  Must  get  in  the  chief's  lodge,  once ; 
then  all'!!  be  safe.  No  time  for  squaw  talk  now." 

"  See  you  later.  Got  to  go  with  Dan,"  explained 
Phil,  hastily. 

"  Yes.  Don't  worry.  We'll  look  after  you,"  added 
Chet,  as  with  Phil  he  grandly  fell  in  behind  Grizzly 
Dan. 

"  Squaw  talk !  "  retorted  Cherry,  indignant,  as  the 
boys  left.  "  We  aren't  squaws,  I'd  have  you  know. 
And  we  think  you're  real  mean !  " 

"  Maybe  you  thought  we  wouldn't  know  you,  in 
those  clothes,"  chimed  in  Molly.  "  But  we  did !  We 
knew  you  just  as  well  as  could  be!  Anybody  could 
tell  you  were  just  white  boys,  dressed  up  romantically." 

Thus  rebuked,  Phil  and  Chet  felt  it  beneath  their 
dignity  as  trappers  and  white  Injuns  to  make  further 
reply;  and  imitating  Grizzly  Dan  they  strode  on,  in  his 
tracks,  carrying  their  rifles  in  crook  of  left  elbow,  and 
trying  not  to  notice  the  snarling  dogs  that  stole  behind, 
sniffing  at  their  calves  and  moccasins,  and  threatening 
even  Bonita. 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE     205 

Chief  Billy  had  thrown  open  the  flaps  of  his  tent, 
and  standing  there  motioned  to  them  to  enter.  At  the 
same  moment  he  issued  an  order  to  a  young  Indian, 
which  sent  the  latter  back  as  if  to  attend  to  the  horses. 

The  tent  was  not  very  large,  and  was  merely  a  strip 
of  old  canvas  stretched  upon  a  circular,  cone-shaped 
frame  of  poles — the  butts  spread  wide,  the  tips 
gathered  together  crisscross,  forming  the  apex.  The 
canvas  was  rudely  painted  in  red  and  yellow  figuring. 
Before  the  door  burned  a  fire,  upon  which  an  old 
squaw,  wrinkled  and  bent,  in  a  dingy  calico  wrapper, 
was  hustling  an  iron  pot 

So  much  for  the  outside.  But  the  inside  contained 
another  surprise  as  great  as  that  furnished  by  the  girls. 
Two  persons  were  seated  here,  on  blankets,  against  the 
wall ;  and  at  sight  of  them,  in  the  half  sunshine,  Phil 
and  Chet  uttered  a  simultaneous  gasp. 

"  Hello,  Pete !    Hello,  Professor !  " 

With  answering  gasp  and  exclamation  the  two 
persons  stood — or  partially  stood,  and  there  was  a 
great  shaking  of  hands. 

One  was  a  lean,  lantern-jawed,  and  freckled-faced 
individual,  with  Irish  gray  eyes  and  a  huge  black 
slouch  hat.  He  wore  black  shirt,  overalls,  and  cow- 
puncher  boots.  This  was  Pete,  ex-cowboy,  round-up 
cook  for  the  Bar  B,  cook  in  town  when  not  cooking  on 
the  range  or  else  taking  out  camping  parties.  Full  of 
spunk,  and  a  fighter,  was  Pete. 

The  other  was  a  middle-aged  man,  rather  heavy-set, 
with  head  partially  bald  but  with  close-trimmed  full 
brown  beard  and  mild  brown  eyes  behind  spectacles. 


2o6  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

He  wore  high-laced  boots,  corduroy  trousers,  and  blue 
flannel  shirt  with  black  tie.  This  was  Professor 
Bronson,  who  taught  archaeology  in  some  college  and 
who  was  the  father  of  Gwen,  otherwise  known  as 
Cherry.  Three  times  Chet  and  Phil  and  others  of  the 
Bar  B  cow  outfit  had  rescued  Cherry  from  the  outlaws 
who  would  kidnap  her,  and  once  they  had  rescued  the 
Professor,  too.  So  they  all  were  good  friends. 

"  Glad  to  see  you ;  glad  indeed  to  see  you.  But  why 
those  clothes  ?  "  greeted  the  Professor.  "  And  this  is 
the  old  trapper,  too,  is  it?  All  trappers  together. 
Well,  well." 

'  You  shorely  come  jest  in  time,"  declared  Pete. 
'"Dyuh  see  the  girls?" 

"  Yes.     But  what's  the  matter?  " 

"  We've  been  massacreed,"  said  Pete,  wagging  his 
big  hat.  "  Plumb  massacreed.  These  blamed  Utes 
busted  our  wagon  an'  took  our  hawsses  an'  fetched  us 
along  in  here,  an'  I  dunno  whether  they're  goin'  to 
scalp  us  or  jest  eat  us." 

"  Well,  I  tell  him  and  the  rest  that  it  was  very  rare 
for  the  North  American  Indian  to  indulge  in  can- 
nibalistic habits,  except  upon  ceremonial  occasions," 
announced  the  Professor,  genially,  gazing  about  very 
much  as  if  in  the  lecture  chair.  "  Scalping  was  of 
general  prevalence  in  the  West,  but  was  done  more  in 
the  heat  of  conflict — the  scalp  being  a  trophy  of 
prowess.  I  do  not  think  that  we  are  in  any  danger." 

"  Says  that  because  he's  past  scalpin',"  grumbled 
Pete. 

"  No,  he  ain't,"  corrected  old  Dan,  shortly.    "  Injuns 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    207 

can  get  half  a  dozen  scalps  ofFn  him.  They'll  scalp 
his  whiskers." 

"Oh!  Is  that  so?"  murmured  the  Professor, 
curious.  "  Did  you  ever— 

"  Wagh !  Heap  too  much  talk,"  grunted  old  Dan. 
"  Thar  comes  eatin'.  Let's  fill  our  meat-bags.  That's 
etiquette;  that's  the  way.  An'  Fin  wolfish." 

Chief  Billy  had  not  entered  with  them;  but  now  in 
bustled  the  old  squaw,  with  grunts,  to  hand  about  a 
couple  of  battered  tin  platters  and  others  of  rude  wood. 
She  next  lugged  in  the  pot,  and  with  additional  grunt- 
ing set  it  down  in  the  middle  of  the  circle.  Then  she 
retired. 

From  the  pot  rose  a  fragrant  steam  of  stewed  meat, 
and  there  projected  the  handle  of  a  large  wooden 
spoon.  This  handle  old  Dan  promptly  grasped. 

"  Hold  yore  plates,"  he  bade. 

"  None  for  me ,  thank  you,"  quoth  the  Profes- 
sor. "  We  had  a  meal  not  an  hour  ago — and  a  very 
good  one,  too.  Some  of  that  very  stew,  I  should 
judge." 

"  Don't  care,"  rebuked  old  Dan.  "  Hold  yore  plate. 
Got  to  eat  agin;  got  to.  It  air  Injun  custom  to  set  a 
feast  afore  guests,  an'  they  got  to  eat  an'  eat  plenty. 
You  figger  as  guests  along  with  the  rest  of  us,  I  reckon, 
by  the  way  the  pot  war  put  down." 

"  All  right,"  agreed  the  Professor.  "  I  don't  want 
to  offend  anybody." 

"  What  is  it?  "  queried  Phil.    "  Dog?  " 

"Looks  like  it,"  affirmed  Chet.  "Tastes  like  it, 
too.  Good." 


208  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Dawg  air  proper,"  said  old  Dan.  "  This  chief 
hasn't  forgot  the  old  customs." 

"  Dog!  "  gasped  Pete.  "  What  you  talkin'  about? 
Is  this  dog — this  here?  " 

"You  ought  to  know;  you're  a  cook,"  reminded 
Phil. 

Pete  had  turned  a  ghastly  pale,  under  his  rugged 
tan ;  he  placed  aside  his  platter  and  began  to  rise.  Chet 
couldn't  hold  back  any  longer,  and  choked  with  a 
sudden  laugh. 

"  Aw,  it's  rabbit,"  he  said. 

"  Such  jokin'  spoils  my  appetite,"  complained  Pete, 
settling  again. 

"  Well-bred  domestic  dog  ought  not  to  be  objection- 
able as  flesh,"  remarked  the  Professor,  amiably  chew- 
ing away.  "  It  was  a  favorite  dish  with  the  American 
aborigine  of  the  West." 

"  We've  eaten  dog,"  informed  Chet.  "  Grizzly  Dan 
gave  us  a  dog- feast,  first  night  in  camp." 

"  Prairie  dog,"  explained  Phil.  "  But  we'd  rather 
eat  real  dog." 

They  had  finished  the  first  platterfuls,  and  now  to 
Phil  occurred  the  fact  that  it  was  high  time  the  Pro- 
fessor and  Pete  related  their  adventures,  and  that 
maybe  he  and  Chet  should  tell  theirs ;  but  the  entrance 
of  the  tent  was  darkened,  as  by  a  figure.  'Twas  Chief 
Billy,  looking  in — and  old  Dan  stood,  with  a  sigh. 

"  Wants  me,"  he  said.  "  Humph !  Must  be  some- 
thin'  mighty  partic'lar,  when  he  interrupts  a  man  who 
ain't  half  filled  his  meat-bag.  Wagh!"  And  thus 
complaining,  although  he  had  emptied  two  platters  to 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    209 

the  others'  one,  old  Dan  seized  his  long  rifle  and  padded 
out. 

"  How'd  you  folks  come  here,  anyway?"  now  in- 
vited Phil,  of  the  Professor  and  Pete.  "  The  girls  met 
us  outside  and  told  us  you  were  prisoners." 

"  Was  that  your  wagon,  by  a  camp  about  ten  miles 
from  here?"  asked  Chet. 

"  Guess  so,"  answered  Pete.  "  Top  stripped  off  an' 
iron  ripped  out?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  That's  ourn.  Why,  we  were  jest  campin'  through 
— the  Professor  an*  the  girls  an'  me,  with  wagon  an* 
some  saddle-hawsses  (like  last  summer,  yuh  know), 
an'  we'd  made  camp  back  there  a  ways,  on  an  old 
trail,  an'  'bout  twenty  o'  these  Utes  rode  in  on  us ;  an' 
fust  thing  we  knew  they'd  took  possession  an'  we 
weren't  in  it.  They  were  mostly  young  bucks.  They 
rode  on  through,  after  hanging  'round  an'  takin'  what- 
ever we'd  give  an'  everything  else  that  was  loose ;  an* 
then  they  come  back  for  the  wagon  an'  the  rest  of  the 
stuff!" 

"  Why'd  you  let  them?"  demanded  Chet. 

"  Let  them!  "  snorted  Pete.  "  If  it  hadn't  been  for 
those  two  girls,  there'd  'a  been  shootin' !  But  what  can 
a  feller  do  with  a  Professor  an'  two  girls  to  look 
after?" 

"  The  two  girls  were  the  problem,  of  course,"  agreed 
Professor  Bronson.  "  As  I  understand  it,  the  chief  of 
the  tribe  did  not  countenance  the  outrage;  it  was  the 
work  of  some  irresponsible  members,  who  were  up  to 
mischief.  We  had  not  harmed  them  in  the  slightest. 


210  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

In  fact,  we  had  been  very  courteous.  I  even  had  loaned 
one  of  them  my  knife — and  he  hasn't  returned  it  yet. 
When  I  saw  them  riding  back  to  us,  I  thought  maybe 
it  was  to  return  the  knife." 

"Yes,  that's  what  old  Billy  says/'  scoffed  Pete. 
"  Says  his  '  young  men  '  did  it,  and  he's  not  to  blame. 
We  rode  on  with  the  bunch,  partly  to  look  after  our 
stuff  and  partly  because  they  seemed  to  be  particular  we 
should,  and  after  we'd  all  joined  the  main  band  Chief 
Billy  took  us  in  charge.  'Spect  old  Dan'll  settle  their 
hash,  though.  He  savvies  Injun.  I'd  like  to  get  out 
in  the  sage  with  a  hawss  an'  a  gun,  an'  I'd  settle  some 
of  it,  myself.  Next  Injun  war  that  comes,  yuh  can 
count  on  me." 

"Are  the  girls  scared?"  queried  Phil.  "They 
didn't  act  so." 

'  They  seemed  awful  glad  to  see  us,  just  the  same," 
reminded  Chet. 

"  Naw,  they  weren't  scart.  Yuh  can't  scare  that 
Cherry;  an'  that  other  girl,  Miss  Molly,  she  finds  it 
all  '  so  romantic/  Yep,  'so  romantic/"  repeated 
Pete,  with  added  sarcasm.  "  She's  the  most 
romanticky  young  maverick  I  ever  did  run  acrost. 
Everything  '  romantic.'  Huh !  " 

"  I  really  think  that  we  all  would  quite  enjoy  the 
opportunity  to  travel  with  a  genuine  Indian  camp," 
stated  the  Professor,  "  if  we  were  under  no  duress  and 
had  not  been  deprived  of  our  property." 

"  Wagon  was  wuth  a  hundred  dollars,"  interjected 
Pete.  "  When  I  travel  with  an  Injun  outfit  I  like  to 
invite  myself  an'  choose  my  own  time.  Sheep  outfit  or 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    211 

Injun  outfit  look  alike  to  me.  Don't  care  about  payin' 
to  go  'long.  But  these  Injuns  think  he's  crazy,"  and 
Pete  jerked  his  head  aside  at  the  Professor.  "  Yuh 
ought  to  see  him  pokin'  'round." 

"  But  tell  me :  what  are  you  boys  doing?  "  asked  the 
Professor.  "  Out  in  the  open,  as  usual,  I  see.  Not 
herding  sheep  or  cattle,  though  ?  " 

"No,  sir;  we're  Injuns,  ourselves.  We're  white 
Injuns,"  explained  Chet.  "  No  red  Injuns  bother  us! " 

"  Grizzly  Dan  made  these  suits  for  us,"  added  Phil. 

"  How'd  you  happen  to  find  that  wagon  ?  "  prompted 
Pete. 

"  We're  camped  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain. 
Phil  and  I  found  the  wagon  yesterday;  and  then  we 
went  and  told  Dan,  and  we  all  set  out  on  the  trail  till 
we  came  to  the  village.  Dan  knew.  You  can't  fool 
Dan." 

At  this  moment  the  old  squaw  appeared  again,  and 
removed  the  pot  and  the  platters ;  and  next  Grizzly  Dan 
himself,  followed  by  other  persons  crowding  in  after, 
hastily  entered. 

"  Get  out  o'  hyar,"  he  bade.  "  Lodges  air  comin' 
down  an'  village  air  on  the  move.  No  time  to  lose." 

Something  in  old  Dan's  manner  betokened  occasion 
extraordinary  and 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  demanded  both  boys,  at  once. 

"  Medicine  air  bad.  Camp's  bustin',"  answered  old 
Dan,  shortly.  "  Better  get  out  o'  this  hyar  lodge  or 
it'll  be  down  on  yore  heads." 

"  Bless  my  heart !  "  ejaculated  the  Professor. 

Among  the  Indians  who  had  pressed  in  after  Grizzly 


212  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Dan  were  Chief  Billy  and  one- even  older,  enveloped 
over  his  head  with  a  blanket,  so  that  only  his  wrinkled 
visage,  with  a  few  wisps  of  gray  hair,  peered  out ;  and 
another,  who  stepped  forward  with  a  "  How-do-do  ?  " 

"How,  Charley?"  responded  the  boys,  and  shook 
hands  with  him. 

He  was  an  Indian  young  man  of  about  twenty-five, 
in  calico  shirt  and  buckskin  trousers  and  moccasins,  his 
hair  short,  not  braided.  This  was  Charley  Pow-wow, 
son  of  Chief  Billy.  He  had  been  East  at  school,  and 
was  a  curious  mixture  of  red  and  white.  Sometimes 
he  was  one,  and  sometimes  he  was  the  other.  Just 
now  he  was  white  and  affable. 

"  Better  get  out,"  he  warned. 

With  impatient  gesture  and  word  Chief  Billy  turned 
and  made  exit;  the  older  man,  in  the  blanket,  without 
a  sound  trod  after ;  and  they  all  followed  to  the  outside. 
Here  the  old  squaw  already  was  hastily  loosening  the 
canvas  from  the  pins — jerking  the  loops  free  while 
a  younger  squaw  pulled  up  the  pins  themselves. 
Throughout  all  the  camp  the  process  was  in  vogue; 
there  were  pulling  of  pins,  shrill  exhortation,  bustle 
and  excitement,  and  Phil  was  reminded  of  circus 
grounds  after  the  show. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Charley?  "  he  and  Chet  asked 
again. 

"  My  father  think  it  bad  medicine  here." 

"Why?    Where  you  going?" 

But  now  came  with  a  rush  the  two  girls. 

"  Did  you  hear?  "  cried  Cherry. 

"  We're  going  with  you !  "  cried  Molly. 


OLD    FRIENDS    RED    AND    WHITE    213 

"  We  aren't  prisoners  any  longer ;  we've  been 
rescued !  "  they  both  cried.  "  But  you  didn't  do  it !  " 

"Who  did?  What's  the  matter,  then?"  implored 
the  boys,  for  the  third  time. 

"  A  big  bear  did  it.    They  found  his  tracks !  " 

"Who?" 

"  That  oldest  Indian,  in  a  blanket.  He  found  them 
and  came  in  and  got  other  Indians,  and  they're  all 
scared.  Want  to  see  ?  " 

"How  far?" 

"  Right  there  in  the  willows.  Grizzly  Dan  saw 
them.  We  went  down  with  him  and  the  big  fat  chief 
and  the  old  other  one." 

"Come  on,"  bade  Chet,  to  Phil.  "We'll  hurry. 
It's  that  Four-Toes  again,  I  bet  you." 

Led  Sy  the  two  girls,  who  tripped  eagerly  in  ad- 
vance, they  crossed  a  little  neck  or  bend  of  the  stream 
to  a  point  where  a  group  of  Indians — mainly  young 
men  and  boys — were  gathered,  staring  curiously  at  the 
bank.  Straight  through  them,  amidst  the  willows, 
the  two  girls  fearlessly  conducted,  and  stopped  short. 

'  There !  "  they  said  breathlessly,  pointing  down. 
"Didn't  we  tell  you?" 

The  half  a  dozen  Indian  youth  here  collected  drew 
aside,  murmuring  low  among  themselves  as  they 
watched  the  white  arrivals.  Two  of  the  youth  were 
the  twain  encountered  by  the  boys  on  the  trail  in  the 
timber.  The  dark  one  glowered,  but  the  lighter  one 
smiled. 

"  Big  bear,"  he  said  in  good  English.  He  had  his 
bow,  as  before. 


214  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  That's  shore  Old  Four-Toes,"  asserted  Chet, 
gravely,  to  Phil. 

"  It  shore  is,"  agreed  Phil,  as  gravely. 

"  Oh,  how'd  you  know  ?  "  exclaimed  one  of  the  girls. 
"  Somebody  told  you!  " 

"  Wagh !  That  air  his  track — that  air  his  sign,  gal," 
reproved  Chet,  in  his  best  language  of  white  Injun. 

"  We  can  read  sign.  We  air  mountain  men,  wagh !  " 
confirmed  Phil. 

"  How  romantic,"  murmured  Molly. 

"  Fiddlesticks!  "  commented  Cherry. 

The  track  was  plain, — the  imprint  of  the  huge  flat 
paw,  lacking  a  toe,  in  the  plastic  sand  of  the  stream- 
shore  among  the  willows.  Here  the  big  bear  had 
crossed. 

"  Fresh,"  grunted  Chet  to  Phil. 

Phil  nodded  wisely. 

"  It  air,"  he  grunted  back. 

"  Bad  medicine.  We  all  go,"  spoke  the  lighter  young 
Indian,  with  the  blue  paint  and  the  bow ;  and  he  stole 
lightly  away,  after  his  companions. 

"  He's  a  real  nice  boy,"  informed  Cherry.  "  His 
name  is — I  forget." 

"  He's  so  romantic-looking;  like  a  Hiawatha,"  added 
Miss  Molly. 

"Come  on,"  said  Chet,  energetically.  "We'll  be 
left." 

For  suddenly,  without  word  and  without  sound,  all 
the  Indians  here  had  disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

TROUBLE  FOR  FOUR-TOES 

WHERE  the  Indian  camp  had  stood  a  great  change 
had  taken  place.  The  sagy  flat  along  the  stream  had 
been  swept  clean  of  human  habitation,  as  if  a  tornado 
had  leveled  the  village;  all  the  tents  or  lodges  were 
down,  most  of  them  folded  and  packed ;  and  around 
and  about  the  mounted  bucks  scuttled  the  women, 
shrieking  at  children  and  at  each  other,  and  lashing 
fast  their  household  goods  to  ponies  or  upon  frames  of 
lodge-poles. 

"  There  are  our  hawsses — over  with  Grizzly  Dan 
and  the  chiefs,"  directed  Phil,  as  he  hurried  along  with 
Chet  and  the  girls. 

"  Ours,  too,"  exclaimed  Cherry. 

But  before  they  reached  the  spot  Grizzly  Dan  and 
Chief  Billy  and  the  older  Indian  had  started;  behind 
strung  out  the  procession  of  other  Indians,  mainly  men, 
with  just  a  few  women  who  seemed  favorites  en- 
titled to  do  little,  while  the  mass  of  the  women, 
with  the  children  and  the  packs  and  the  dogs,  fell  in 
behind. 

Yes,  Pepper  and  Medicine  Eye  were  waiting,  still 
saddled,  tethered  loosely,  their  ears  pricked,  their 
whinnies  ready ;  near  them  were  the  two  saddled  horses 
which  must  be  for  the  girls;  but  Betty  the  mule  and 

215 


216  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Cotton-tail,  her  faithful  follower,  had  trotted  on  to  join 
Dan  and  the  spotted  pony. 

"  Want  help?    Can  you  get  on?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Certainly,"  retorted  Cherry,  indignant.  "  We 
don't  want  any  help  from  boys ;  do  we,  Molly !  We'll 
be  on  before  they  are." 

Phil  had  expected  this  answer  from  Mistress  Cherry 
of  ranch  training,  but  he  had  not  been  so  sure  of  Molly. 
However,  thus  challenged  he  and  Chet  must  make  for 
their  own  steeds.  But  the  girls'  were  the  nearest,  and 
as  he  and  Chet  hastily  swung  into  the  saddles  Cherry 
and  Molly  were  dashing  away.  They  raced  after,  at 
best  trapper  seat,  their  fringes  flying,  their  rifles  held 
across  saddle-horn,  like  Grizzly  Dan's. 

"Isn't  this  grand!"  appealed  Cherry,  overtaken. 

"  So  romantic,"  declared  Miss  Molly. 

The  boys  solemnly  nodded.  And  it  was  both 
"  grand  "  and  "  romantic,"  to  be  skirting  the  column  of 
Indians,  in  the  free,  sunny,  sagy  open;  to  be  on  the 
way  somewhere,  anywhere,  with  horse  and  "  pos- 
sibles," and  with  this  wild,  mobile  company. 

"  I  see  papa  and  Pete,"  cried  Cherry.  "  Anyway,  I 
see  Pete's  big  hat!  " 

Four  together,  they  dashed  on,  rapidly  passing  the 
various  members  of  the  procession,  until  they  arrived 
at  the  head.  Here  rode  Grizzly  Dan  between  Chief 
Billy  and  the  older  Indian,  with  Pete  and  the  Professor 
ambling  behind. 

At  the  sound  of  the  hoofs  all  turned  heads.  It 
seemed  to  Phil  that  he  and  Chet,  in  their  buckskins, 
hair  and  fringes  flying,  and  the  two  girls,  braids  flying, 


TROUBLE    FOR    FOUR-TOES          217 

cheeks  aglow,  ought  to  make  a  pleasing  picture  as  they 
galloped  up;  but  the  old  Indian  (who  had  dropped  his 
blanket  from  around  his  face)  scowled,  Chief  Billy 
grunted  with  a  guttural  sentence  of  disapproval,  and 
old  Dan  called  shortly : 

"  Fall  in  thar.  The  lead  air  no  place  for  young 
warriors  an'  squaws." 

"  The  idea !  "  sniffed  Cherry ;  but  abashed,  the  boys 
turned  in,  with  the  girls,  where  just  behind  the  Pro- 
fessor and  Pete  the  column  opened  obediently  for  the 
purpose  of  receiving  them. 

"  Well,  we're  on  the  move,"  greeted  Pete,  over  his 
shoulder.  "  Got  scart  at  a  bear  track,  didn't  they?  " 

"  A  most  singular  occurrence,"  remarked  the  Pro- 
fessor ;  who,  as  he  rode  with  lines  hanging,  was  with  a 
pocket  microscope  examining  pieces  of  rock  which  he 
extracted  from  his  clothes.  "  There  appears  to  be  a 
superstition  in  it.  The  bear  evidently  is  a  fetish,  or  a 
deity  of  some  sort,  with  the  tribe." 

"  That  is  a  medicine  bear,"  interrupted  a  soft  voice. 
"  He  has  been  known  to  my  people  for  many 
years." 

'Twas  Charley  Pow-wow,  the  educated  Indian;  he 
had  ridden  up,  and  was  pacing  easily  along,  on  a  clay- 
colored  horse,  beside  the  girls.  He  now  wore  a  som- 
brero with  a  black-and-white  woven  hair  band,  and 
carried  a  rifle. 

"  Shore;  that's  Old  Four-Toes.  He  air  medicine," 
confirmed  Chet. 

"  I  suppose  that  his  appearance  is  a  portent,  of  some 
meaning  or  other,"  invited  the  Professor,  interested. 


2i8  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Charley  looked  upon  him  soberly,  but  understood. 
"  Yes.  We  do  not  like  to  stay  around  where  he  is.  It 
is  better  to  leave.  The  old  men  know  this.  Viejo 
Cheyenne  says  so,  too." 

"  Is  that  that  old  Indian,  with  your  father?  "  queried 
Cherry. 

"  Sure;  '  Viejo '  (he  pronounced  it,  as  had  Charley, 
"vee-a-ho")  means  old,  in  Mexican;  doesn't  it, 
Charley?  "  put  in  Chet,  wisely. 

Charley  nodded.  "  He  was  taken  prisoner  by  my 
tribe  many  years  ago,  when  he  was  a  young  man ;  he 
has  been  with  us  ever  since ;  but  he  is  not  a  Ute ;  he  is 
a  Cheyenne.  We  used  to  be  at  war  with  the  Cheyenne 
people.  We  call  him  Viejo  Cheyenne,  which  means 
Old  Cheyenne." 

"  And  he  found  the  bear  track,"  proclaimed  Cherry. 

Charley  nodded  again.  "  It  is  what  we  say  *  bad 
medicine  ' — it  is  a  bad  sign,"  he  resumed  gloomily. 
"  Whenever  that  track  with  only  four  toes  is  found 
near  us,  something  bad  happens.  That  is  why  we  are 
moving  out." 

"  How  romantic !  "  declared  Molly. 

"  Guilty  conscience,"  declared  Cherry.  "  You  broke 
our  wagon  and  stole  our  property  and  stole  us,  too, 
and  made  us  come  out  of  our  way;  and  now  you're 
afraid!" 

Charley's  broad,  dark  features  settled  into  a  stolid 
mask. 

"  It  was  some  young  men  who  thought  to  play  a 
joke,"  he  replied  gloomily  and  simply.  "  My  father  is 
sorry.  Now  he  lets  you  go,  when  he  can." 


TROUBLE    FOR    FOUR-TOES          219 

"Well,"  returned  Cherry,  frankly,  "you  all 
ought  to  be  frightened,  and  those  men  ought  to  be 
ashamed.  It  would  serve  them  right  if  the  bear 
would  chase  them  up  trees  and  keep  them  there  all 
night!" 

"  Yes,  an'  it  would  be  a  mighty  good  thing  if  he'd 
climb  up  after  'em,  too,"  chimed  in  Pete.  "  There's  a 
good  wagon  tore  to  pieces  that  some  o'  this  band  have 
got  to  pay  for." 

Charley  did  not  respond,  but  turned  his  horse  and 
trotted  along  the  line. 

Occasionally  gazing  back,  the  boys  could  see  that  the 
Indian  cavalcade  extended  almost  a  quarter  of  a  mile. 
Really,  it  made  quite  an  impressive  and  more  than  quite 
a  picturesque  sight.  The  main  column  consisted  of  the 
men,  some  in  blankets,  some  in  semi-civilized  costume 
of  shirt  and  trousers,  some  half  naked,  many  painted, 
and  all  with  braids  hanging  from  their  bare  crowns  or 
from  beneath  various  shaped  hats.  A  number  rode 
without  saddle;  a  number  carried  guns;  a  few  had 
bows  and  arrows.  Then  there  were  the  women ;  some, 
young  and  gaily  decorated  with  paint  and  bright 
ribbons  and  dangling  trinkets,  mingled  with  the  men ; 
others,  older  but  buxom  still,  sitting  amidst  household 
packs  piled  before  and  behind  the  saddle,  and  bearing 
at  their  backs  babies  enveloped  in  blanket  folds  as  in  a 
sling ;  and  others,  older  yet,  some  with  babies  and  some 
not,  farther  to  the  rear,  poorly  mounted,  or  else  trudg- 
ing beside  travois  of  lodge  poles,  on  which  were 
fastened  lodges,  etc.,  and  on  which  rode  small  children 
and  puppies.  While  anon  to  one  side  or  another  were 


220  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

constantly  swooping  young  men,  showing  off,  or  boys 
chasing  dogs  or  rabbits. 

The  march  had  continued  for  about  a  mile,  up  the 
flat  or  shallow  valley,  and  diverging  from  the  stream  to 
ascend  gradually  a  little  divide.  Here  on  the  top  the 
three  leaders — Grizzly  Dan,  Chief  Billy,  and  Vie  jo 
Cheyenne — drew  to  one  side,  and  halted ;  Grizzly  Dan 
beckoned  with  a  single  motion  of  his  hand  to  the  other 
whites ;  so  they  also — the  Professor,  Pete,  the  two  girls, 
and  the  two  boys — turned  out,  aside.  The  procession 
filed  on  past,  across  the  plateau. 

"  Hyar,"  directed  Grizzly  Dan,  "  trail  forks.  We 
ride  yonder.  Thar  come  yore  camp  stuff  an'  pos- 
sibles." 

Chief  Billy's  old  squaw,  leaving  the  cavalcade,  ap- 
proached with  two  horses  pack-laden. 

"  That's  all  you  get  hyar,"  said  Grizzly  Dan  to  the 
Professor.  ''  Thar'll  be  things  missin',  I  reckon,  an' 
you'll  have  to  count  'em  as  presents.  'Cept  the  wagon, 
an'  for  that  you'll  have  to  talk  with  the  agent  in  the 
Ignacio  country,  whar  the  reservation  air.  That  air 
what  the  chief  says." 

'  They're  a  set  o'  blamed  robbers,  that's  what  they 
are ! "  burst  out  Pete,  red-faced  and  explosive. 
:<  They've  spoiled  fifty  dollars  wuth  o'  provisions  an'  a 
hundred  dollars  wuth  o'  wagon." 

"  Wall,  I've  done  the  best  I  can.  You're  lucky  to  get 
back  what  you  do,"  answered  Grizzly  Dan. 

"  Certainly,"  agreed  the  Professor.  "  Of  course, 
some  damage  was  to  be  expected;  but  under  slightly 
different  circumstances  I  should  not  object  at  all  to 


TROUBLE    FOR    FOUR-TOES          221 

traveling  further  with  these  Indians.  A  very  interest- 
ing people." 

"  Told  you  he  was  plumb  crazy,"  observed  Pete, 
crossly,  to  the  two  boys. 

Chief  Billy  and  the  ancient  Cheyenne — wrinkled, 
hook-nosed,  curving  mouthed,  gray-haired,  in  his  ears 
dangling  brass  circles  like  curtain-rod  rings,  his  eyes 
meshed  and  peering  but  keenly  bright  like  old  Dan's — 
had  been  waiting  without  emotion. 

"  All  right.  G'by,"  grunted  Chief  Billy,  extending 
his  hand.  He  gravely  shook,  beginning  with  the  Pro- 
fessor, ending  with  the  girls.  Viejo  Cheyenne  hastily 
shook,  as  if  he  hated  to;  and  he  drew  his  blanket 
around  him  coldly.  Chief  Billy  spoke  a  guttural 
sentence  to  Grizzly  Dan,  who  responded  with  a  sign  of 
the  hand;  and  the  chief  and  Viejo  Cheyenne  galloped 
away  for  the  head  of  the  onward-moving  procession. 

"  I'm  sure  we're  exceedingly  obliged,"  proffered  the 
Professor,  probably  addressing  Grizzly  Dan,  but  gaz- 
ing as  if  regretfully  after  the  Indian  cavalcade.  "  I 
suppose — er — they  would  have  taken  us  to  some  place 
of  safety,  en  route  ?  " 

"  I  can  take  you  thar  quicker,"  said  old  Dan.  "  Pick 
up  yore  trail-ropes  if  yore  hosses  won't  follow,  an* 
come  along." 

"  They'll  follow,"  asserted  Pete.  "  Lucky  we  took 
a  four-hawss  team;  with  the  two  saddle  hawsses  for 
the  girls  that  gave  us  plenty  in  case  of  emergency. 
But  where's  that  wagon?  " 

"  Have  to  leave  the  wagon  whar  it  air.  It  won't  fly 
off." 


222  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Couldn't  haul  it  out,  anyhow,  I  reckon,"  admitted 
Pete,  dolefully.  "  Those  plagued  Injuns  plumb 
foundered  it.  And  say,  I'm  lost.  I'm  shore  lost. 
Where  we  at?  Never  did  know  this  park  very  good." 

"  Coin'  to  show  ye,"  answered  old  Dan,  shortly. 

"  Well,  we're  all  right  now,"  sighed  Cherry.  "  Mr. 
Dan  knows." 

Now  numbering  seven  riders  and  four  pack  animals, 
they  made  somewhat  of  a  procession,  themselves. 
With  old  Dan  and  the  two  girls  leading,  the  others 
strung  out  in  file,  and  Chet  and  Phil  closing  the  rear, 
the  march  was  taken  across  the  plateau.  The  course 
diverged  sharply  from  that  of  the  Indians,  and  the 
space  in  the  angle  grew  wider,  until  presently  the 
Indians  had  dipped  below  some  ridge  veiled  by  timber. 
The  last  flutter  of  blanket  vanished. 

Grizzly  Dan  led  along  the  edge  of  the  plateau,  which 
was  rolling  and  sagy;  from  here  the  park  looked 
strange  to  Phil,  as  it  had  to  Pete,  for  the  tip  of  Red 
Chief  seemed  to  be  hidden  by  surrounding  hills  and 
the  outlines  of  Warrior  Peak  were  different.  But  as 
Cherry  had  said,  "  Dan  knew."  Once  or  twice  the 
girls  dropped  back,  to  ride  with  the  two  boys ;  and  once 
or  twice  the  Professor  halted  his  horse,  and  dismounted 
to  pick  pebble  or  flower,  examine  it,  stuff  it  into  a 
pocket,  and  catch  up  again. 

Finally,  at  a  curve  in  the  plateau  Grizzly  Dan  sud- 
denly pulled  his  horse  short,  and  as  the  procession 
gathered  around  him  he  pointed  across  the  lower 
country. 

"  See  that  'ere  gap?  "  he  asked  of  Pete. 


TROUBLE   FOR   FOUR-TOES          223 

Pete  nodded  his  big  hat. 

"  Thar's  yore  trail,  then.  You  leave  this  hyar  table, 
an'  travel  straight  acrost  the  draw  for  that  gap.  In 
that  gap  you'll  strike  a  trail,  an'  in  one  day  more  o' 
travel  you'll  be  at  Hosthief  Pass." 

"  All  right,"  said  Pete.  "  Can't  get  us  out  o'  here 
any  too  quick  for  me." 

"  But  aren't  you  coming?  "  asked  Cherry,  in  much 
concern,  of  Grizzly  Dan. 

"  No,  marm,"  replied  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Got  our  own 
trail  to  make." 

"  How  romantic,"  murmured  Miss  Molly,  rather 
sillily. 

"  We  can  get  out  by  that  gap,  then,  can  we  ? " 
queried  the  Professor. 

"  Can  if  you  don't  stop  too  often  to  pick  up  stuns." 

"  It's  perfectly  safe,  I  assume,"  ventured  the  Pro- 
fessor again,  unabashed.  "  The  Indians  will  go  on 
their  way,  and  we  can  go  on  ours." 

"  Those  thar  Injuns,"  quoth  Grizzly  Dan,  scratch- 
ing his  whiskered  jaw,  "  those  thar  Injuns — I  had  a 
talk  with  Chief  Shawanah,  the  one  you  call  Chief  Billy, 
about  those  thar  Injuns.  It  war  jest  as  well  I  come 
along,  'cause  Injuns  air  peculiar.  Shawanah  says  he 
war  doin'  the  best  he  could  for  you,  but  some  o'  his 
young  men  war  bad,  an'  some  o'  the  old  men  war 
eggin'  'em  on,  an'  it  war  a  question  whether  he  could 
manage  'em  or  not.  They'd  plundered  yore  camp,  an* 
they  war  afraid  to  let  you  go  an'  they  war  afraid  to 
keep  you.  I  moughtn't  have  got  you  off  without  a  big 
present  myself ;  but  lucky,  they  looked  on  the  Professor 


224  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

hyar  as  crazy,  an'  crazy  folk  air  big  medicine  to  Injuns ; 
they  heap  respect  crazy  folk;  an'  then  when  Vie  jo 
Cheyenne  found  that  thar  track  o'  Four-Toes  in  camp, 
that  settled  it.  Wagh !  They  know  Four-Toes  air  big 
medicine,  an'  they  knowed  they  war  in  his  country  an' 
had  been  doin'  wrong.  So  they  called  me  out  an'  got 
together  what  possibles  o'  yourn  they  had,  an'  bid  me 
say  for  you  to  come  down  to  the  reservation  an'  talk 
about  the  wagon." 

"  Well.  That's  all  right,  then,"  quoth  the  Professor, 
satisfied.  "  We'll  look  upon  it  as  just  a  piece  of  mis- 
chief." 

"  I  dunno,  I  dunno,"  responded  old  Dan,  shaking  his 
shaggy  head.  "  Look  on  it  as  you  like — but  those  thar 
Injuns  air  liable  to  make  trouble  yet.  They  say  they 
air  goin'  on  a  visit  to  their  friends  up  north ;  but  thar 
air  a  lot  o'  young  men  bustin'  to  do  somethin*  that'll 
make  warriors  of  'em,  an'  thar  air  some  old  men 
encouragin'  'em  by  tellin'  'em  stories  o'  the  war-trail 
when  they  war  young.  Thar  air  some  old  men  who 
hate  the  whites  as  much  as  ever ;  they  air  bad  at  heart, 
an'  they'd  like  to  make  the  young  men  bad,  too.  O' 
course,  young  men  get  restless;  they  don't  think 
farmin'  an'  workin'  air  as  excitin'  or  as  honorable  as 
the  hunt  an'  the  scalp  trail.  They  want  to  be  warriors. 
You  take  my  advice  an'  get  out  to  the  settlements, 
straight." 

"  Thank  you.  We  will,  we  will,"  assured  the  Pro- 
fessor, heartily. 

"  We  shore  will,"  confirmed  Pete. 

The  parties  shook  hands. 


TROUBLE    FOR   FOUR-TOES          225 

"  I  should  think  we  could  go  with  you,"  protested 
Cherry,  with  a  pout,  to  the  boys.  "  It's  real  mean,  to 
send  us  off  this  way,  when  you're  having  such  fun." 

"  But  we're  white  Injuns,"  explained  Phil;  "  and  our 
camp's  the  other  side  the  mountain." 

"  Can't  have  squaws  'round,"  added  Chet.  "  We 
may  have  to  take  the  war  trail  again.  Squaws  don't 
go  on  the  war  trail." 

"  How  romantic,  to  be  living  that  way !  "  breathed 
Miss  Molly,  admiringly. 

But  Cherry  tossed  her  head. 

"  We  aren't  squaws,  and  we  could  live  that  way  with 
you-all,  just  as  well  as  not.  Can't  we,  Mr.  Grizzly 
Dan?" 

"  Too  much  squaw  talk,"  grunted  old  Dan.  "Puck- 
a-chee.  Adios  to  'ee.  Wagh !  " 

He  turned  his  spotted  pony,  and  left  at  a  trot.  With 
parting  wave  of  hand  the  two  boys  also  must  leave; 
Betty  the  dun  mule  and  Cotton-tail  the  pack-horse 
snatched  final  mouthfuls  of  herbage  and  came  on  after. 
Phil  looked  back  just  in  time  to  wave  again  at  Cherry, 
as  she  disappeared  over  the  crest  of  the  slope  for  the 
draw  below. 

Grizzly  Dan  rode  at  fast  rack  or  pace,  as  if  making 
up  for  lost  time;  and  after  him  trotted  pack  animals 
and  his  white  Injun  companions,  with  Bonita  loping, 
tongue  out,  through  the  brush  at  one  side  or  the  other. 
This  route  also  slanted  down  from  the  little  plateau, 
into  a  valley,  sparsely  wooded,  and  inclosed  by  thicken- 
ing timber  which  rose  high  to  the  ridge  on  either  hand. 
Through  the  valley  trickled  a  small  stream. 


226  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Now  the  sun  was  behind  a  ridge  to  the  west,  quarter- 
ing before;  for  the  day  was  almost  done.  Phil  noted 
that  they  were  following  again  one  of  those  half- 
obliterated  trails  which  old  Dan  so  unerringly  could 
strike.  Now,  while  he  was  wondering  if  Dan  was  bent 
upon  riding  clear  to  the  cabin,  without  a  halt  for  camp, 
the  valley  opened  to  a  basin,  and  upon  his  ears  fell,  in 
this  wilderness,  the  familiar  tinkle  of  bells! 

"  Sheep !  "  shouted  he  and  Chet  together,  and  Bonita 
loped  with  pricked  ears. 

"  Sartinly,"  called  back  old  Dan.  "  Been  hearin'  'em 
for  an  hour." 

The  white  dot  of  the  herder's  tent  could  be  seen, 
where  the  canvas  had  been  pitched  at  the  farther  edge 
of  the  basin,  beside  some  pines  and  aspens.  Over, 
jutted  darkly  in  the  twilight  a  bare  mountain- wall,  grim 
and  lofty.  Faintly  sounded  the  herder's  voice  and  the 
barking  of  his  dog,  as  together  they  rounded  up  the 
sheep  for  the  night.  Phil  and  Chet  looked  for  him, 
and  could  just  descry  his  dark  figure,  trudging  through 
the  brush  and  rocks  beyond  the  tent,  while  before  him 
flowed  the  sheep. 

"  May  be  Gus,"  said  Chet. 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,"  agreed  Phil.  "  Got  here  quick, 
didn't  he!" 

At  the  tent  Grizzly  Dan  dismounted. 

"  Off  packs,"  he  bade.  "  Hyar's  whar  we  camp. 
This  coon  smells  mutton.  He  air  wolfish.  Old  venison 
don't  shine  'longside  fresh  mutton,  wagh!  Not  for 
him." 

So  speaking,  he  was  busy  at  the  lash  rope  of  Betty, 


TROUBLE    FOR   FOUR-TOES          227 

and  the  boys  fell  to  at  the  lashings  of  Cotton-tail. 
With  clap  of  the  hand  they  turned  the  two  animals 
loose,  and  followed  them  with  the  saddle-horses, 
stripped  likewise. 

By  this  time  dusk  had  descended,  flowing  from  the 
hills;  and  across  the  sage,  for  the  tent,  rushed  a  dog, 
barking,  shouted  at  and  called  in  by  its  master  the 
herder. 

"That's  Gus  all  right!"  exclaimed  Phil.  "And 
Kitty,  too ! " 

And  Gus  it  was,  who  now  approached,  crashing 
through  the  brush,  in  overalls  and  blouse  and  battered 
slouch  hat,  "  hook  "  in  hand  and  Kitty  his  dog  im- 
patient at  his  heels. 

Bonita  bristled,  and  growled;  growled  and  bristled 
Kitty. 

"Shut  up!"  bade  Gus.  And— "  Well,  how  are 
you?  I  t'ought  it  wass  you,  by  dose  clothes,"  he 
greeted. 

"  How'd  you  get  in  here  so  soon  ?  " 

"  Joost  trailed  in.  But  I  didn't  come  over  Horse- 
t'ief  Pass.  Dere  iss  a  better  pass.  Mebbe  I  have  to 
get  out,  though." 

"  What's  the  matter  ?    Injuns  ?  " 

"  Naw.  I  am  not  afraid  of  Injuns.  But  dere  iss  a 
big  bear.  He  iss  eatin'  up  my  sheeps,  and  I  have  not- 
ting  to  kill  him  with,  and  Kitty,  she  iss  afraid  of  him." 

"  What  kind  of  bear?  "  demanded  the  two  boys  at 
once. 

"  A  very  big  bear,"  informed  Gus,  phlegmatic. 
"  About  as  big  as  t'ree  bears.  If  I  had  my  gun  un- 


228  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

busted  I  would  fix  him ;  but  now  I  am  glad  to  see  you 
come  in,  because  you  can  fix  him  for  me." 

"  Wagh!  "  ejaculated  old  Dan.  "  This  coon  air  too 
wolfish  to  talk  o'  killin'  b'ar.  What's  in  pot?  " 

"  Well,"  remarked  Gus,  calmly,  as  he  gathered  an 
armful  of  wood,  "  if  you  do  not  kill  him  for  me  den  I 
can  get  some  odder  hunters.  Dere  iss  a  bunch  of  dem 
over  yonder,  looking  for  bear.  That  cowboy  Buster 
is  with  dem,  and  they  are  killing  everything  in  sight.  I 
have  been  t'inking  of  going  over  and  telling  dem  about 
my  bear.  So  I  guess  mebbe  I  will." 

"  Wagh !  "  again  uttered  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Heap  talk 
on  an  empty  meat-bag.  Whar's  yore  carcass?  I'll 
butcher  some  off  while  pot's  bilin'.  If  yore  pot  ain't 
big  enough,  hyar's  another." 

"  Dere  iss  a  wether  hanging  in  that  spruce  yonder," 
directed  Gus.  "  Help  yourself.  Yes,"  he  continued, 
making  a  fire  in  his  stove,  "  it  iss  a  big  bear.  I  heard 
dere  wass  one  in  here,  and  I  t'ink  he  iss  it,  with  four 
toes." 

"  Old  Four-Toes !  You'd  better  leave  him  alone. 
He's  a  medicine  bear,"  warned  Chet,  as  he  and  Phil 
peeled  potatoes  while  Gus  proceeded  to  make  bread. 

"  Well,  he  iss  medicine  that  my  sheeps  don't  like," 
claimed  Gus,  unmoved.  "  So  I  must  get  him  killed." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  TENDERFEET  BEAR-HUNTERS 

"  WHAT  war  that  about  a  big  b'ar  ?  "  invited  Grizzly 
Dan,  now  after  they  had  seated  themselves  upon 
ground  and  bedding,  about  the  stove  in  the  corner  of 
the  tent,  and  he  had  finished  his  first  plate  of  mutton 
steak,  fried  potato,  canned  corn,  etc. 

Bonita  and  Gus's  sheep-dog  had  been  tied  short, 
apart,  to  avoid  any  fighting  which  might  involve 
the  masters  also,  as  last  year  on  the  Circle  K 
range,  and  that  all  attention  might  be  given  to  the 
supper. 

"  What  war  that  about  a  big  b'ar?  " 

"  He  has  been  eating  my  sheeps,"  stated  Gus. 

"  It's  Old  Four-Toes,"  explained  Phil. 

"  Sartin,"  nodded  Grizzly  Dan.  "  What'd  you  bring 
yore  sheep  in  this  hyar  park  for?  " 

"  It  iss  a  good  park  for  sheeps,"  said  Gus,  coolly. 
"  So  I  pay  the  goovernment  to  let  my  sheeps  graze  dis 
summer ;  and  my  partner  he  tries  anodder  place.  But  I 
do  not  pay  to  let  my  sheeps  be  eat  up  by  a  bear." 

;<  That  b'ar  war  in  hyar  fust.  Besides,  he  owns  this 
hyar  country.  He  air  a  medicine  b'ar.  He  ain't  b'ar 
an'  he  ain't  human ;  he  air  more.  If  you  pay  the  gov- 
ernment, you  ought  to  pay  him,  too." 

"  I  pay  the  goovernment  because  sheeps  eat  goov- 

229 


230  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

ernment  grass;  but  the  bear  does  not  need  the  grass. 
He  does  not  eat  grass,"  argued  Gus. 

"  Wagh!  Yes,  he  do,"  returned  old  Dan.  "  Least- 
wise, he  eats  roots  an'  he  eats  grubs  that  live  on  roots ! 
Yore  sheep  skin  a  country  so  nothin'  can  live  thar.  I 
tell  'ee,  doesn't  seem  as  if  thar  war  any  place  whar  a 
decent  b'ar  can  live  in  peace,  anyhow." 

"  Well,  dese  are  my  sheeps,  and  I  pay  to  be  in  here," 
declared  Gus,  unconvinced.  "  I  don't  trouble  dis  bear 
and  if  he  troubles  me  more  I  will  have  him  killed." 

"How  many  sheep  has  he  taken,  Gus?"  asked 
Phil. 

"  T'ree.  The  last  time  it  wass  right  on  the  bedding- 
ground,  'fore  dark,  and  I  see  him.  Kitty  would  not 
go  near  him  and  my  gun  iss  busted  and  so  I  drive  him 
off  with  a  stick.  I  tell  him  that  if  he  come  again  I  will 
kill  him,  and  maybe  he  understand,  for  he  has  not  been 
back.  That  wass  night  before  last.  He  wass  a  very 
large  grizzly  bear,  about  as  large  as  a  cow.  His  foot- 
print show  only  four  toes.  I  find  the  print  in  some 
mud." 

"  What'll  you  kill  him  with  ?  "  demanded  Chet,  wax- 
ing excited. 

"  I  do  not  know.  But  I  guess  I  get  dose  hunters 
over  yonder  to  kill  him.  They  want  bear.  Or  would 
you  like  to  kill  him?  You  can  have  him.  I  t'ink  his 
pelt  iss  pretty  good." 

Chet  wriggled  and  twisted,  torn  between  his  natural 
desire  and  his  acquired  respect.  "  I  dunno,"  he  mum- 
bled. "  I  dunno  as  we'll  stay." 

"  He  did  us  an  awful  good  turn,  back  there  with 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    231 

some  Injuns;  and  he  helped  some  friends  of  ours," 
ventured  Phil. 

"  That  air  a  medicine  b'ar,"  rebuked  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  He  air  not  to  be  teched  with  steel,  lead,  or  silver,  by 
blade  or  bullet." 

"  I  will  hit  him  on  the  nose  with  a  club,  then,"  in- 
terrupted Gus,  stubbornly.  "  He  had  better  keep  away 
from  my  sheeps." 

"  Wall,  you  handle  him,  an*  don't  call  on  us.  But 
best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  take  yore  sheep  out  o'  hyar, 
an'  leave  him  his  roots  an'  his  grubs.  Whar  air  those 
campers  you  speak  of?  " 

'  Yonder,  about  five  miles.  They  are  foolish ;  they 
leave  fires  and  they  almost  shoot  me  from  a  mile  away. 
They  have  no  sense.  And  that  cowboy  Buster,  who  is 
their  guide,  I  t'ink  he  has  least  sense  of  any,"  con- 
cluded Gus,  vengefully. 

The  night  passed  peacefully,  much  to  Phil's  relief. 
He  and  Chet  slept  out,  under  their  buffalo  robe;  but 
old  Dan,  whose  age  seemed  to  be  telling  on  him,  slept 
in  with  Gus,  under  canvas  and  out  of  the  little  breeze. 
No  Four-Toes  disturbed  the  bedding-ground,  near  at 
hand. 

"  Now  for  camp,"  spoke  old  Dan,  as  after  break- 
fast they  mounted.  "  This  coon  air  half- frozen  for  a 
hot  bath.  But  fust  I  reckon  we'll  ride  through  that  'ere 
camp  I  heared  told  of.  Whar  do  you  locate  it?  " 

'  'Round  that  point  and  nort'  t'rough  the  timber, 
into  the  next  draw,"  directed  Gus,  pointing  up  the 
basin. 

"  Shore,  I  see  smoke  in  the  air,"  replied  old  Dan, 


232  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

peering.  "  Wall,  adios  to  'ee.  Take  my  advice  an'  let 
that  'ere  b'ar  be.  He  air  big  medicine." 

"  So  am  I,  if  he  does  not  leave  my  sheeps  alone,"  re- 
torted Gus.  "  I  will  rap  him  on  the  nose." 

With  a  wave  of  the  hand,  to  which  Gus  briefly  re- 
sponded, the  boys  rode  after  Grizzly  Dan ;  and  Bonita 
came  gamboling,  as  if  egging  Kitty  to  follow  and  be 
thrashed.  Betty  and  Cotton-tail  ambled  more  deject- 
edly, for  with  the  remark,  "  Hyar,  now,  can't  have  so 
many  loafers  trailin'  along,"  old  Dan  had  transferred 
to  Betty  the  robes  bedding,  with  some  other  "  plun- 
der," binding  them  fast  with  the  squaw  hitch  applied 
by  his  own  rope.  He  retained  custodianship  of  his 
precious  pot  and  a  chunk  of  meat ;  but  the  slight  load 
caused  Betty's  ears  to  droop,  and  Cotton-tail  evidently 
feared  for  himself  also. 

"  Do  you  think  Gus  will  kill  him?  "  hazarded  Phil, 
as  they  rode  on. 

"  He  shore  will,  if  he  has  to,"  asserted  Chet.  "  You 
know  he's  heap  bull-headed,  Gus  is.  He's  a  Swede 
and  he's  not  afraid  of  anything,  when  it  comes  to  fight- 
ing for  his  sheep.  Bear  or  blizzard,  he'll  tackle  'em 
singly  or  both  at  once.  Wagh !  " 

"Wagh!"  concurred  Phil. 

"  That  b'ar  don't  calkilate  to  lose  his  scalp  to  any 
sheep-herder,"  said  old  Dan.  "  But  sech  things  do 
happen.  You  got  that  black  fox  when  his  medicine  war 
weak." 

Phil  sincerely  hoped  that  Old  Four-Toes  would  not 
fall  to  the  vengeance  of  the  wrathful  Gus;  and  he 
wished  that  Four-Toes  would  let  the  sheep  alone,  for 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    233 

Gus,  as  Chet  declared,  was  stubborn  and  fearless  in  de- 
fense of  his  flock.  And  as  for  these  hunters,  in  the 
camp  ahead — that  looked  bad,  too.  It  seemed  a  pity 
that  in  all  this  vast,  unsettled  country,  not  yet  neces- 
sary to  man,  a  big  bear  had  no  place  into  which  he 
might  retire  and  live  unmolested,  molesting  nobody. 
Even  Chet  the  bloodthirsty  appeared  to  be  feeling 
friendly  toward  Four-Toes,  who  now  had  grown  to  be 
rather  of  a  personage,  almost  a  partner. 

They  rounded  Gus's  "  point,"  and  turned  up  a  little 
gulch  into  the  timber.  They  climbed  to  the  top  of  the 
ridge  here,  and  riding  along  for  perhaps  an  hour,  sud- 
denly were  halted  by  an  exclamation  from  old  Dan. 

"  Bear  bait.  Smell  it?  "  he  spoke.  "  I  tell  'ee,  this 
coon  won't  stand  for  sech  doin's.  It  air  off  yonder 
an'  not  fur,  either." 

Upon  the  nostrils  of  Phil,  and  by  their  wrinkled  dis- 
gust upon  the  nostrils  of  Chet  also,  wafted  a  strong 
effluvium  of  decaying  flesh;  and  as  with  Bonita  and 
Betty  and  Cotton-tail,  all  faithful,  they  followed  the 
gray  trapper  to  the  right,  the  scent  waxed  stronger. 

"  Thar !  "  declaimed  old  Dan,  pointing  before.  "  I 
did  tell  'ee,  didn't  I!  I  s'pected.  Thar  it  air — good 
meat  gone  to  earth,  when  it  mought  ha'  been  afoot  or 
in  the  pot.  Wagh!  That  sort  o'  work  don't  shine 
with  us  white  Injuns." 

Here,  in  a  little  opening  amidst  the  spruces,  was  a 
pile,  partially  torn  apart,  of  what  once  had  been  car- 
casses, but  which  now  was  chiefly  bones  and  hide. 
However,  'twas  plain  to  be  seen  that  they  were  not 
cattle  carcasses ;  hoofs  and  skull  showed  this. 


234  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  What  are  they?    Deer?  "  gasped  Phil. 

"Elk,  boy,  elk!"  corrected  old  Dan,  gravely. 
"  The  noblest  critter  that  ranges  these  hills.  Can't  you 
read  sign  any  better'n  that?  Thar's  horn  an'  head  an' 
hoof  an'  hide  for  'ee." 

"  May  be  lion  work,  or  winter  killed ;  got  snowed 
in,"  ventured  Chet,  trying  to  be  wise. 

"  Bear  bait,  boy,"  reproved  old  Dan.  "  Jest  shot 
down  an'  piled  up  an*  left  for  bait."  He  dismounted. 
"  Hyar's  the  trail  whar  they  dragged  'em  in ;  I  see  some 
of  it  'way  back,  an'  it  war  what  made  me  lookin'. 
Wagh!  An'  hyar's  whar  somebody  climbed  the  tree, 
to  wait  for  the  b'ar  to  come.  But  he  didn't  come,  I 
reckon — don't  see  no  sign  o'  butcherin'." 

"  You  mean  somebody  killed  elk  and  piled  them  up, 
just  to  attract  bear?"  demanded  Phil. 

"Shore  they  do,"  confirmed  Chet.  "And  it's  a 
mighty  low-down  trick.  There's  a  law  against  shoot- 
ing elk,  anyway;  and  they're  no  good  in  the  spring, 
either." 

"  Good  b'ar  bait ;  that's  what— b'ar  bait,"  growled 
old  Dan.  "  Jest  lookee — hyar  air  four  o'  these  noble 
animiles  murdered,  plumb  murdered,  left  lyin',  not 
used,  to  make  a  b'ar  come  'round  so's  he  can  be  killed, 
too.  An'  some  fellow  sits  up  in  a  tree  an'  shoots  him. 
Now,  I  tell  'ee,  that  ain't  Christian;  'tain't  manlike, 
either.  Wouldn't  blame  that  'ere  sheep-herder  for 
killin'  b'ar  in  a  stand-up  fight,  with  a  club,  when  the 
b'ar  war  eatin'  his  sheep — or  for  shootin'  him,  for  same 
reason,  open-handed ;  but  this  'ere  b'ar-baitin' — wagh ! 
It  air  wuss'n  chasin'  'em  down  with  dawgs,  it  air. 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    235 

Wall,  they  didn't  get  the  b'ar.  They  fed  the  coyotes, 
air  all.  But  we'll  have  to  see  'bout  this." 

"  I  call  it  a  plumb  shame,"  denounced  Chet,  flushed. 

"  Wagh !  "  growled  Grizzly  Dan.  "  It  air  not  only 
hard  on  the  b'ar,  but  it  air  a  waste  o'  good  meat  which 
ought  to  be  let  run  or  else  put  in  pot." 

He  mounted  abruptly,  and  with  hasty  hand  turned 
his  spotted  pony,  to  retake  the  trail.  And  they  left  the 
disagreeable  spot. 

From  the  verge  of  the  downward  slope  forming  the 
other  side  of  the  ridge  they  looked  upon  what  probably 
was  the  draw  spoken  of  by  Gus.  Here  they  paused, 
momentarily,  for  a  survey;  and  scanning,  eager  to  be 
keen-eyed,  Phil  thought  that  he  could  perceive,  below, 
a  thin  film  of  smoke,  as  betokening  a  camp ;  but  Grizzly 
Dan,  waving  his  hand  at  one  side,  directed  brusquely : 

"  More  bait." 

"  Ravens?  "  queried  Chet. 

"  Sartinly.    Ravens  air  sign." 

They  veered  toward  a  hollow  indenting  the  slope — a 
spot  where  large  black  ravens  were  alighting  or  flutter- 
ing. It  was  not  necessary  to  stop  here;  the  evidences 
did  not  require  a  close  inspection.  But  in  the  leafy 
hollow  were  several  more  carcasses  of  deer  or  elk,  or 
both ;  these  a  little  fresher,  as  if  being  a  later  attempt. 
The  ravens  were  feasting  upon  them. 

"  Wagh !  "  muttered  Grizzly  Dan.  "  It  ain't  Chris- 
tian, an'  it  ain't  manlike." 

They  descended  the  long,  sparsely  wooded  slope,  and 
at  last,  guided  by  the  sound  of  voices,  they  rode  into 
the  camp  itself.  It  consisted  of  two  tents — one  large, 


236  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

with  a  vestibule  or  porch,  wherein  stood  the  dining- 
table;  the  other  smaller.  Much  wood  had  been 
chopped;  saddles,  pack  and  riding,  were  lying  about; 
guns  and  clothing  and  bedding  were  hanging  in  the 
trees ;  and  tin  cans  and  bottles  and  other  rubbish,  relics 
of  meals,  were  widely  strewn.  Remnants  of  deer  and 
of  grouse,  discarded  or  held  for  consumption,  also  were 
visible.  Horses  snorted  and  cropped,  in  a  meadow  be- 
yond. 

The  members  of  the  camp  were  four — three  men,  in 
khaki  and  corduroys,  stretched  in  the  sun,  lazily  smok- 
ing, and  another,  squatting  by  the  fire  and  washing 
dishes.  Breakfast  was  just  finished. 

"  Howdy,"  greeted  Grizzly  Dan,  reining  in  at  the 
edge,  and  surveying. 

"  Good-morning,  good-morning,"  responded  the 
three  men,  surveying  back,  in  curiosity. 

The  squatting  figure  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"  Hello,  Buster,"  cried  the  boys.     "  Got  a  job?  " 

"Well,  if  there  isn't  Chet  an'  Smith-Jones!"  ex- 
claimed the  figure,  straightening  and  walking  over  to 
extend  a  browned  hand.  He  was  a  small,  wiry  youth, 
with  tow  hair  and  blue  eyes.  Clad  in  gingham  shirt, 
suspenders,  overalls,  and  pointed-toed  high-heeled 
boots,  he  bespoke  the  cow-puncher.  "  What  yu  doin' 
in  this  country?  " 

"  We're  camping  with  Grizzly  Dan." 

"  Hardly  knew  yu  in  that  rig.  Look  like  yu  might 
be  runnin'  a  Wild  West  show  or  workin'  for  Buffalo 
Bill.  Quit  woollies?"  This  Buster,  cow-boy  and 
former  rider  for  the  Bar  B  cattle  ranch,  had  the  utmost 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    237 

contempt  for  sheep ;  and  when,  last  year,  the  Bar  B  had 
become  the  Circle  K  of  the  sheep  range,  he  had  refused 
to  join. 

'  Yes.    Have  you  quit  punching?  " 

"  Don't  know.  Say "  and  he  lowered  his  voice, 

with  a  glance  backward,  "  I'm  dude  wranglin',  now. 
Got  the  blamedest  outfit  yu  ever  see.  Wait  a  minute," 
and  he  raised  his  voice  again,  as  he  turned  to  the  camp. 
"  Here,  gents,  is  yore  bear-killer.  This  is  the  famous 
Smith-Jones — this  leetle  feller.  He  doesn't  wait  to  kill 
bear;  he  eats  'em  alive." 

Thus  designated,  Phil  must  blush  and  squirm.  As 
a  tenderfoot  at  the  ranch  he  had  been  dubbed  Smith- 
Jones  because  this  wasn't  at  all  his  name,  and  he  had 
been  invested  with  this  reputation  as  a  fierce  bear- 
slayer  because  he  knew  nothing  at  all  about  bears. 
Now  he  knew  more,  in  every  way — but  he  was  not 
bragging. 

"  Is  that  so?  "  queried  two  of  the  three  men,  while 
all  stared.  And  the  third  bade :  "  Get  down.  Get 
down  and  have  breakfast.  While  you're  waiting  you 
can  tell  us  about  it.  We're  after  bear,  ourselves. 
Cook,  hustle  these  men  some  breakfast." 

He  was  a  stout,  florid  man,  with  full  face  and  baggy 
eyes  and  a  crisp  grayish  mustache.  His  companions 
were  younger — one  was  slim  and  languid,  the  other 
was  chubby.  All  were  attired  in  the  best  of  hunting 
costumes — buttoned  or  laced  leggins,  knickerbocker 
corduroys,  khaki  skirts,  visored  caps,  hobbled  shoes. 

"We've  had  breakfast,  thanks,"  blurted  Chet;  and 
Phil,  too,  felt  annoyed  at  the  imperative  words  di- 


238  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

rected  to  them  and  to  Buster.    Buster  grumbled  under 
his  breath. 

"  Have  some  more,  then.  How  about  bear  ?  Seen 
any?" 

"  We  aren't  hunting-  bear,"  replied  Chet,  curtly. 
'There's  a  big  old  fellow  in  here  we're  trying  to 
get,"  volunteered  the  slim  man.    "  Seen  him?  " 

"  We've  seen  how  you're  tryin'  to  get  him ;  an' 
it  ain't  Christian,"  addressed  Grizzly  Dan,  direct. 
"Wagh!" 

"  What's  that,  old  man  ?  "  The  first  of  the  three,  the 
florid-faced,  baggy-eyed  one,  spoke  up  sharply. 

"  I  say  we've  seen  yore  b'ar  bait,  an'  it  don't  shine 
with  us.  It  air  no  way  to  use  a  country." 

"  It's  against  the  law  to  kill  elk,  anyway — or  deer 
either,  this  time  of  year.  Buster  knows  that  as  well  as 
the  rest  of  us.  Everybody  knows  it,"  added  Chet. 

"  Shore,"  agreed  Buster.    "  I  didn't  kill  'em." 

"  There's  no  law  in  here,"  retorted  the  slim  man, 
coolly,  but  with  a  laugh.  "  Who  are  you,  old  man — 
mayor  of  the  city  ?  " 

"  I  air  a  mountain  man,  wagh ! "  replied  Grizzly 
Dan,  from  his  saddle  facing  the  three.  "  I've  traveled 
this  hyar  country  over  from  the  Missouri  to  the  Co- 
lumbia, 'fore  you  war  born — some  o'  ye ;  an'  I  never 
yet  come  to  a  spot  whar  thar  warn't  law.  If  it  warn't 
the  law  o'  man  it  war  the  law  o'  God  which  began  when 
these  mighty  hills  began  an'  which  won't  end  till  they 
end.  When  God  made  the  world  He  meant  some  laws 
should  be  natteral  to  it,  I  reckon;  an'  one  war,  that  it 
shouldn't  be  abused.  I  call  killin'  critters,  without  use 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    239 

for  'em,  an'  leavin'  'em  to  rot,  like  you  leave  that  'ere 
b'ar  bait,  breakin'  law.  Yes,  I  do,  I  tell  'ee." 

Phil  felt  like  clapping  his  hands;  and  Chet's  eyes 
were  sparkling  steelly.  Buster  nodded  his  head.  They 
all  thought  alike  upon  this  subject. 

'  You're  putting  that  rather  strong,  old  man,"  an- 
swered the  chubby  one  of  the  hunters,  now  speaking 
for  the  first  time.  "  You've  doubtless  done  a  lot  of 
such  killing,  yourself." 

"  Mebbe  so,  mebbe  so,"  assented  Grizzly  Dan.  "  I've 
wasted  a  heap  o'  meat,  in  my  day.  Thar  war  so  much 
of  it,  an'  so  few  of  us.  But  now  I  know  better  an'  I'm 
tryin'  to  tell  'ee.  You  come  in  hyar,  from  outside,  an' 
you  break:  laws  that  people  livin'  in  the  country  aim  to 
keep.  You  think  'cause  you  air  from  a  distance,  an' 
won't  stay  long,  'twon't  harm  you  an'  what  it  do  to 
harmin'  the  country  you  don't  keer.  I  tell  'ee,  that  sort 
o'  work  won't  shine ;  it  won't.  If  you  can't  live  decent 
an'  abide  by  the  law  o'  the  land,  you  ought  to  stay  out." 

"  We  want  that  big  bear,  uncle,"  explained  the  florid- 
faced  hunter.  "  He's  a  whopper,  they  say.  We  saw 
his  track  and  it's  as  large  as  a  coal  scuttle !  " 

"  Lend  us  your  bear-hunter.  Will  you  come,  boy  ?  " 
invited  the  slim  man. 

"  Aw,  I'm  no  bear-killer,"  stammered  Phil,  embar- 
rassed. "  That  was  a  joke.  They  just  call  me  that,  for 
fun." 

"  Wagh !  "  growled  Grizzly  Dan.  "  You'd  better  let 
that  'ere  big  b'ar  be.  He  air  no  b'ar  to  be  ketched  by 
dead  bait,  an'  he'll  lead  you  into  trouble.  He  knows 
what  he  air  doin';  he  air  a  medicine  b'ar.  Thar  air 


240  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Injun  'round,  I  tell  'ee,  an'  this  country  air  no  place  for 
greenhorns.  You  get  out,  straight,  or  you'll  lose 
ha'r!" 

"  Oh,  you're  joking,"  laughed  the  men,  easily ;  but 
they  glanced  at  Buster,  and  Buster  eyed  the  two  boys. 

"  That's  right,"  said  Phil,  aside,  to  him.  "  Chief 
Billy's  Utes  are  in  here.  They  had  Pete  and  the  Pro- 
fessor and  Cherry." 

"  They  shore  are  liable  to  be  bad,"  added  Chet. 

They  briefly  recounted  to  Buster,  but  old  Dan  inter- 
rupted by  a  last  hasty  warning,  as  impatiently  he 
started  his  spotted  pony. 

"  We'll  risk  the  Indians,  uncle,  if  only  we  get  the  big 
bear,"  had  said  the  florid-faced  man. 

"  You're  liable  to  get  more  Injun  than  b'ar,  'less  you 
air  mighty  keerful,"  returned  old  Dan.  "  You'd  all 
better  pull  out,  straight,  I  tell  'ee.  This  coon  knows 
sign  when  he  sees  it." 

"  Got  to  tend  to  the  hosses,"  vouchsafed  Buster, 
back,  and  walking  between  the  boys  as  they  rode  after 
Dan.  "  Say,"  he  communicated,  as  soon  as  they  were 
beyond  hearing  of  the  camp,  "  I've  got  the  limit,  for  a 
job.  Dude  wranglin'  is  what  I  name  it.  Did  yu  hear 
him  call  me  *  cook,'  an'  tell  me  to  rustle  grub  for  yu  ? 
Shore  I'm  cook;  but  I'm  on  day-herd  an'  night-herd 
both,  an'  they  make  me  sleep  in  a  separate  tent,  besides. 
When  they  ain't  settin'  the  timber  afire,  they're  shoot- 
in'  holes  in  the  atmosphere  with  guns  that  kill  in  the 
next  state.  Got  about  a  ton  o'  ammunition.  Wust  set 
o'  tenderfeet !  I  was  shore  glad  when  the  old  man  lit 
into  'em.  That's  what  they  think — 'cause  they're  out 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    241 

West  here  they  can  do  as  they  please.  I  didn't  pile 
that  bear  bait.  Told  'em  it  was  agin  the  law  to  do  it. 
Now  I  hope  they  decide  to  pull  out.  They're  scared, 
all  right.  Say,  are  all  city  folks  like  that?  " 

"  No,"  said  Phil,  "  I  should  say  not !  There  was 
Ford,  you  remember,  with  the  Bar  B." 

"That's  so,"  mused  Buster.  "I  reckon  there's  a 
difference  between  people,  the  world  over:  some  are 
O.  K.,  an*  some  don't  learn.  But  I  don't  want  ary 
more  job  like  this,  where  I'm  bossed  'round  an'  treated 
like  a  servant,  an'  have  to  do  all  the  work,  an'  nobody 
won't  listen  to  what  I  tell  'em.  Why,  when  they're  out 
o'  sight  o'  camp,  they're  plumb  lost ;  an*  they  start  off 
in  three  different  directions,  an'  each  expects  me  to  find 
him  first.  Jest  had  breakfast,  when  you  fellows  came, 
an'  it  was  six  o'clock  or  after,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

By  this  time  they  had  come  to  the  horse  pasture,  and 
Buster  stopped  to  catch  the  animals.  "  So  long,"  he 
said.  "  I'm  nothin'  but  a  dude  wrangler.  Hear  'em 
shootin'  ?  "  A  bullet  whined  overhead,  glancing  from 
a  limb.  "  That's  what  they  do — shoot  at  a  mark,  never 
knowin'  what's  behind  it !  Awful  likely  to  coax  a  bear, 
ain't  they!  Won't  be  any  game  in  the  whole  park, 
'fore  we  get  out!  "  So  they  left  him  dolefully  chasing 
the  horses. 

As  if  still  irritated,  old  Dan  led  straight  away,  up 
the  draw,  at  a  smart  pace  of  his  spotted  pony,  his  pre- 
cious kettle  bobbing ;  and  as  customary  the  little  caval- 
cade formed  behind  him :  Chet,  and  Phil,  and  Betty, 
and  Cotton-tail,  and  Bonita  panting  at  the  rear. 
Now  it  seemed  to  Phil  that  they  were  actually  on  the 


242  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

home  stretch  for  the  cabin,  and  it  also  seemed  to  him 
that  they  had  been  gone  from  the  cabin  a  long  time. 

"  Do  you  think  those  Injuns  will  give  trouble, 
Dan?  "he  asked. 

"  I  do/'  replied  Grizzly  Dan. 

"  They  won't  get  over  the  mountain,  though,"  as- 
serted Chet,  sagely. 

Dan  grunted. 

"  When  do  we  get  over?  "  queried  Phil. 

"What  mountain?" 

"  Warrior  Peak." 

"  'Most  over  now." 

That  was  a  surprise;  but  as  old  Dan  did  not  vouch- 
safe further  explanation,  as  usual  neither  of  the  boys 
invited  it.  They  knew  that  if  they  waited  they  would 
find  out.  So  it  was  trot,  trot,  trot,  down  hill  or  on  the 
level,  and  puff,  puff,  puff,  up  hill;  with  little  conver- 
sation. The  timber  continued,  from  ridge  to  ridge, 
but  old  Dan  never  faltered  in  his  course;  and  unex- 
pectedly emerging  from  one  long  stretch  climbing  a 
cedar  slope  which  ran  up  between  two  hills,  the  two 
boys  gazed  forth  upon  the  distant  landmark  of  Red 
Chief! 

There  he  was,  once  more,  lifting  his  crimson  and 
shaven  crown  above  the  jungle,  to  the  west;  and  in- 
stantly they  looked  for  Warrior  Peak.  This  was  he, 
immediately  on  their  left;  they  were  now  skirting  his 
inner  flank,  for  below  and  before  lay  the  open  patch 
that  must  be  the  park  where  stood  the  cabin!  Mi- 
raculously enough,  they  were  across  Warrior;  but 
really  they  had  not  crossed  him,  they  had  come  around 


THE    TENDERFEET    BEAR-HUNTERS    243 

him.  And  as  if  reading  their  amazement,  old  Dan 
grunted  his  significant  grunt. 

"  Thar  it  be,"  was  all  he  said,  and  down  they  pressed. 

They  struck  a  trail,  which  proved  to  be  a  fork  of  that 
trail  which  had  taken  them  up  over  Blackfoot  Pass ;  for 
following  it  they  came  out  at  that  edge  of  the  little 
park  exactly  where  they  had  made  exit. 

Cotton-tail  whinnied  foolishly,  as  if  in  greeting  to 
the  familiar  grazing  ground;  and  Betty,  trotting  for- 
ward, shook  herself  vigorously,  as  if  to  shake  off  the 
dust  of  travel. 

"  Wagh !  "  cried  old  Dan,  breaking  his  spotted  pony 
into  a  gallop.  "  Hyar's  home !  "  But  as  he  dashed  for 
the  cabin,  across,  flourishing  his  long  rifle,  about  to 
fire  his  salute,  craning  his  neck  he  peered  right  and  left 
and  cautioned  to  the  boys  just  behind  him : 

"  Save  yore  ammunition  an'  spread  out  a  leetle ! 
Hadvis'tors!" 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

TROPHIES  OF  A  BATTLE-FIELD 

OBEDIENTLY  the  boys  deployed  to  right  and  to  left, 
so  that  now  in  a  line,  with  old  Dan  occupying  the  cen- 
ter, the  home-comers  galloped  across  the  little  flat. 
The  cabin  looked  peaceful  and  untenanted ;  no  haze  of 
noon  fire  upfloated ;  but  as  they  swung  around  and  the 
front  opened  upon  them,  Phil  saw  that  the  wolf-pelt 
was  gone.  This  probably  was  what  old  Dan  had  noted. 

Grizzly  Dan  did  not  slacken.  He  rode  boldly,  as  if 
reckless  of  any  rifle  muzzle  that  might  be  waiting  to 
stop  him.  Phil,  peering  for  sign  of  friend  or  enemy, 
momentarily  held  his  breath,  thinking  that  he  saw, 
from  shuttered  window  or  loosened  chink  or  the  brush 
of  the  background,  a  spurt  of  powder-smoke  foretelling 
warning  report. 

But  each  time  he  was  deceived;  and  uninterrupted, 
unhailed  by  voice  or  shot,  they  rode  at  the  gallop  right 
up  to  the  cabin  door,  where  in  white  Injun  fashion  they 
pulled  their  horses  short  to  the  haunches.  Old  Dan 
alertly  dismounted. 

"Wagh!"  he  said,  scanning  things  rapidly. 
"Didn't  I  tell  'ee?  Pelt  gone,  door  forced,  hyar  air 
tracks!  Wagh!  What  air  this  country  comin'  to? 
Sheep,  an*  b'ar  baitin',  an'  shack  robbin' — I  tell  'ee, 
people  air  gettin'  too  thick.  Country  air  gettin'  too 
civilized.'* 

244 


TROPHIES    OF    A    BATTLE-FIELD     245 

"  I  should  say !  "  agreed  Chet,  much  indignant. 

"  Wonder  if  they  took  anything?  Didn't  break  open 
the  cache,"  said  Phil. 

"  Nothin'  much  to  take,"  mumbled  old  Dan,  ferret- 
ing about,  inside  and  out.  "  No,  didn't  lift  the  cache. 
This  coon  doesn't  build  caches  to  be  lifted.  Took  the 
wolf  pelt.  Can  get  plenty  o'  them,  though.  But  sech 
doin's  don't  shine — bustin'  into  a  lodge  an'  makin'  a 
mess  of  it." 

"Weren't  Injuns,  were  they?  Don't  see  any  fresh 
moccasin  tracks,"  argued  Chet. 

"  Might  have  been  those  beaver  poachers  we  met, 
below,  when  we  came  in,"  proposed  Phil. 

"  Reckon  it  mought,"  mumbled  old  Dan.  "  Thar 
war  two,  but  they  did  a  heap  o'  trampin'.  Wall,  no 
great  harm;  but  ha'r  has  been  taken  for  less.  Off 
saddle,  off  saddle,  if  you  like,  whilst  I  make  a  leetle 
circle  for  sign.  Better  be  startin'  a  fire.  'Spect  ye  air 
wolfish.  I'll  leave  you  the  pot." 

So  saying,  he  untied  his  beloved  kettle,  and  set  it 
aside.  Then  he  climbed  again  into  the  saddle,  and 
turned  his  spotted  pony  (disappointed  at  the  new 
chore)  for  the  edge  of  the  timber.  This  he  rode,  mak- 
ing circuit,  his  eyes  upon  the  ground ;  and  while  Chet 
and  Phil  were  busy  he  vanished  from  their  sight. 

The  boys  had  a  good  fire  going,  and  the  pot  almost 
boiling,  before  he  appeared  again,  at  a  point  upon 
which  they  had  not  figured,  and  galloped  across  the 
park  for  the  cabin. 

"  Plenty  sign,"  he  announced.  "  Found  whar  they 
come  in ;  two  of  'em  an'  two  pack  animiles ;  found  whar 


246  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

they  went  out,  in  t'other  direction."  He  hastily  unsad- 
dled. "  Come  from  below,  an'  air  travelin'  on  through. 
Back-tracked  'em  'most  to  those  pelt-thieves'  camp,  so 
I  reckon  it  air  they.  Wagh !  I'm  wolfish !  What's  in 
pot?" 

"  Water,"  giggled  Chet.  "  You  went  off  with  the 
meat." 

"  Pshaw,  now !  "  bemoaned  the  mountain  man,  dole- 
fully. "  I  do  be  gettin'  old,  that's  a  fact.  Wall,  hyar 
'tis,"  and  he  unrolled  the  chunk  of  venison  that  he  had 
been  carrying.  "  Clap  her  in.  Thar'll  be  more  by 
night,  after  I've  been  to  my  corral." 

By  the  time  that  the  meat  was  boiled,  the  cache  had 
been  opened,  the  housekeeping  articles  extracted,  and 
the  cabin  refitted  to  its  previous  comfortable,  even  lux- 
urious state  of  furs  ankle-deep. 

"  Change  yore  moccasins,"  bade  old  Dan,  as  he 
suited  action  to  the  word.  "  That  air  what  those  gals'd 
have  had  to  do,  if  they'd  come  along:  had  to  set  out 
the  warm  water  an'  the  fresh  moccasins,  for  the  men 
folks.  It  air  the  squaw  work." 

"  Don't  think  they'd  like  that,  extra  well,"  answered 
Phil,  imagining  Cherry's  prompt  refusal. 

"  Wall,  we  can  fit  on  our  own  moccasins,  an'  hyar 
the  warm  water's  waitin',"  grunted  old  Dan,  as  he 
bathed  his  feet  in  the  flow  below  the  cabin.  The  boys 
imitated  him.  Thus  refreshed  (having  bathed  not  only 
feet,  but  also  face  and  hands)  they  ate  all  the  meat, 
trusting  to  Dan's  promise  that  there  would  be  more  by 
night. 

The  afternoon  passed  with  all  feeling  much  at  home, 


TROPHIES    OF    A    BATTLE-FIELD     247 

loafing  in  the  sun  or  in  the  shade,  and  soaking  in  the 
pool.  Here  the  boys  plashed  around,  casting  off  the 
effects  of  the  long  ride.  The  water  was  exactly  warm 
enough,  and  was  as  soft  and  as  caressing  as  a  June 
breeze  from  the  fields.  The  bottom  of  the  pool  proved 
gravelly,  so  that  the  mud  did  not  stir  up.  Bonita  also 
enjoyed  the  pool — not  once,  but  several  times.  And 
toward  evening  old  Dan  took  a  bath. 

As  if  rejuvenated,  next  he  saddled  his  pony,  and  with 
his  long  rifle  across  his  lap  rode  away.  Asking  him  no 
questions,  the  boys  let  him  go.  Within  about  half  an 
hour  they  heard  the  faint  crack  of  his  rifle ;  and  in  about 
another  half-hour  he  reappeared,  trotting  in  with  a 
deer  carcass  behind  his  saddle.  He  had  been  to  his 
corral,  as  he  called  it. 

That  evening  they  had  venison  steaks  for  supper. 
Behind  distant  Red  Chief,  in  the  west,  sank  the  sun, 
his  last  beams  lighting  the  mighty  form  of  the  sleeping 
warder  of  Warrior  Peak.  Thus  assured  that  he  had 
not  moved  or  deserted,  with  plenty  of  "  meat  for  pot  " 
(as  old  Dan  said),  with  the  cabin  as  shelter,  and  with 
a  bath  and  fresh  moccasins  and  change  of  stockings 
and  even  of  underclothing,  the  inmates  of  White  Injun 
Camp  might  be  content,  ready  for  a  peaceful,  satisfy- 
ing night.  Afar  was  trouble;  afar  were  sheep  and 
bear-baiters  and  marauding  Utes,  and  the  beaver 
poachers  who  had  meddled  with  the  shack  and  stolen 
its  black  wolf  pelt. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  old  Dan,  rising  from  where  he 
had  been  squatted,  smoking  his  after-supper  pipe  by  the 
fire.  "  Bath  an'  fresh  moccasins  an*  full  meat-bag  an* 


248  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

stars  make  this  chile  want  to  dance  medicine,  it  do." 
He  stowed  his  pipe  in  his  buckskin  shirt.  "  Come  on," 
he  invited.  "  Come  on,  now — Whoo-oop !  Ow-ow- 
gh!  Hay-ah-hay!  "  And  he  started  in. 

Started  Phil  and  Chet,  joining  behind  him;  so  that 
again  they  three  circled  the  fire;  knees  bent,  flat  soles 
thudding,  bodies  swaying,  to  the  chant : 

"  Whoo-oop  !      Ow-ow-gh  !     Hay-ah-hay  ! 
Hay-ee-hay  hah-ah-hay  hah-ah-hay  ! 
Whoo-oop  !      Ow-ow-gh  !      Hay-ah-hay  ! 
Hee-ah  hah-ah  hi-yah-hah  ! 
Whoo-oop!" 

"Thar!  "  panted  Grizzly  Dan,  exhausted,  as  he  quit. 
"  Reckon  I  mought  eat  a  leetle,  'fore  turnin'  in.  That 
'ere  dancin'  shakes  down  yore  meat-bag  an'  leaves  too 
much  space." 

"  Anything  special  on  hand  for  to-morrow  ? " 
queried  Phil. 

"  No ;  reckon  we'll  keep  camp,  an'  let  the  hosses  rest 
for  a  day  or  so.  I'll  dress  out  that  fox  pelt  a  leetle  bet- 
ter for  'ee,  an'  thar  air  some  patchin'  to  do,  an'  bullets 
to  run.  When  Injuns  air  'round,  this  chile  likes  to 
keep  plenty  bullets  on  hand,  for  Sally,  case  she  calls 
for 'em."  ' 

"  Shan't  follow  up  those  pelt  thieves,  then?"  prof- 
fered Chet. 

"  No.  Let  'em  go,  boy.  Tain't  for  us  to  seek 
trouble,  'less  we  air  needed  in  it.  'Sides  from  that  thar 
wolf  pelt,  which  war  wuth  nothin'  'cept  as  a  medicine 
to  keep  other  wolves  away,  we  ain't  got  more  reason 


TROPHIES    OF    A    BATTLE-FIELD     249 

to  chase  'em  up  than  we  had  before.  Time  to  have  in- 
terfered war  when  they  war  in  camp  an'  ketchin' 
beaver.  Ought  not  to  make  a  pussonal  matter  of  it, 
now,  jest  'cause  they  meddled  with  us." 

That  sounded  like  sense,  and  like  right;  and  yawn- 
ing, the  boys  staggered  for  their  bunk,  leaving  old  Dan 
toasting  a  slice  of  meat  as  a  night-cap,  so  to  speak. 
They  sank  amidst  the  soft  furs  which  made  their  bed, 
and  drawing  the  buffalo  robe  over  them,  had  time  only 
for  one  more  big  yawn,  apiece,  and  they  were  asleep — 
so  soundly  asleep  that  they  did  not  know  when  Bonita 
curled  up  on  their  feet,  there  to  be  present  at  the  morn- 
ing. 

The  day  passed.  Old  Dan  pottered  about,  attending 
to  odds  and  ends ;  and  he  melted  and  molded  into  bul- 
lets a  bar  of  lead.  This  he  performed  deftly,  with  long- 
handled  ladle  and  mold,  the  grip  of  both  protected  by 
being  wound  with  hide,  charred  in  spots.  From  the 
mold  the  bullets  were  dropped  into  a  pan  of  water,  to 
hiss  and  sink.  About  this  hiss  was  something  ominous ; 
and  about  the  steadily  increasing  layer  of  the  bright 
pellets  was  again  something  ominous. 

"  Won't  need  all  those,  will  you?  "  asked  Phil,  idly. 

"  If  I  do,  it  air  better  to  need  'em  when  you  got  'em 
than  to  need  'em  when  you  haven't  got  'em,"  informed 
the  old  trapper. 

Thus  he  pursued  his  warlike  preparations;  but  his 
spirit  seemed  greater  than  his  flesh,  for  he  plainly  was 
worn  from  the  late  jaunt  beyond  the  mountain.  Yes, 
old  Dan  needed  the  rest  as  much  as  did  the  horses, 
and  speaking  for  them  he  had  spoken  for  himself  also ! 


250  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

However,  here  were  time  and  place  for  resting;  and 
above  rested  likewise  Warrior  Peak. 

Phil  and  Chet  wandered  about  on  foot,  inspecting 
various  nooks.  Toward  evening  all  took  another  bath 
in  the  warm  pool.  At  supper  Grizzly  Dan,  as  if  wax- 
ing uneasy  again,  broached  further  plan  of  action. 

"How  air  ye — rested  up?"  he  asked  craftily. 

"  Fine,"  they  replied. 

"  I  war  thinkin',"  he  said,  "  I  war  thinkin'  o'  talon' 
another  leetle  trip  acrost  country.  Seem'  that  old 
Cheyenne  reminded  me.  He  and  I  air  old  acquaint- 
ances, from  a  time  when  we  both  war  young.  Wagh !  " 

"Vie jo  Cheyenne?" 

"  Yep.  But  his  name  air  Chief  Woopotsit,  which' 
means  white  wolf.  We  fout  agin  each  other  in  Forty- 
one,  over  yonder  'bout  fifty  mile.  It  war  a  big  trap- 
per-Injun battle,  an'  it  war  when  Frapp  war  killed* 
Mought  ride  over  an'  see  the  place,  to-morrer  or  next 
day." 

"  All  right,"  they  agreed,  glad.    And — 

"Who  licked?  "queried  Phil. 

"  Nobody.  It  war  even,  but  they  killed  Frapp.  We 
war  forty  trappers,  makin'  meat  in  the  Little  Snake 
country,  after  beaver  season,  summer  o'  Forty-one. 
Frapp  war  a  German  an'  he  war  our  captain.  Makin' 
meat  air  killin'  buff'ler,  understand.  Wall,  we  war 
startin'  out  from  camp,  in  the  mornin',  when  over  the 
hill  came  a  big  herd  o'  bufFler,  in  a  stampede,  an' 
we  knew  what  war  up.  We  dived  for  timber;  half 
started  in  fallin'  trees,  for  a  fort,  whilst  rest  of  us 
stood  guard.  Our  squaws  ran  screamin'  for  another 


TROPHIES    OF   A    BATTLE-FIELD     251 

hill.  An'  sure  enough,  close  after  the  bufFler  came 
the  Injuns — more'n  three  hundred  Sioux  an*  Chey- 
ennes,  in  their  war-paint  an'  war  bonnets,  with  a  beauti- 
ful Cheyenne  gal  leadin'  'em.  The  bufFler  didn't  do 
us  much  harm,  'cept  they  did  stampede  with  'em  a  few 
loose  mules  an'  hosses  that  we  didn't  have  time  to 
gather.  But  we  war  forted,  an'  we  war  mountain  men, 
wagh !  Injuns  know  better'n  to  charge  mountain  men. 
Costs  'em  too  much  blood.  But  we  fit  all  day.  They 
surroundin'  our  willows,  shootin'  in;  an*  we  shootin' 
out.  We  killed  'bout  sixty  o'  them,  an'  they  killed  four 
o'  us — but  one  war  Frapp.  He  war  complainin'  that 
he  couldn't  see  nary  Injun  to  get,  an'  stuck  his  head 
out  from  behind  his  stump,  an'  a  bullet  hit  him  in  the 
eye.  'Bout  four  o'clock  the  Injuns  quit,  an*  rode  off, 
for  the  north.  They'd  been  down  hyar  to  fight  the 
Utes  an'  Snakes.  We  went  out  an'  scalped  those  we'd 
killed,  an'  our  squaws  came  off  their  hill  an'  helped  us. 
Then  we  buried  our  men,  in  a  cache  with  some  o'  their 
possibles,  an'  we  lit  out  mighty  quick  for  safer  quarters. 
Wagh !  But  it  war  a  great  fight !  Woopotsit  remem- 
bers." 

"  I  should  say !  "  uttered  Chet,  excited. 

"  Have  you  been  there  since  ?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Onct.  We  buried  Frapp  with  eighty  dollars  in  his 
pockets,  an'  'bout  twenty  year  after  I  went  back  to 
look  for  it.  But  somebody  had  got  ahead  o'  me.  Any- 
way, 'twarn't  thar,  though  I  found  his  bones.  But 
thar  war  somethin'  else.  He  knew  of  a  gold  mine 
'round  hyar  in  this  country,  an'  he'd  made  a  map  of 
it,  an'  I  wanted  that  map.  Didn't  find  it." 


252  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

'  The  other'person  got  it,"  proposed  Phil. 

Grizzly  Dan  shook  his  hairy  head. 

"Nope;  they  war  after  the  money,  I  reckon.  If 
they'd  found  that  'ere  map  they'd  been  prospectin' 
'round  hyar,  an'  I  haven't  seen  anybody.  Only  few  of 
us  knew  'bout  that  map,  anyhow — if  he  had  it. 
Mought  have  carried  it  in  his  head.  We  trappers 
'didn't  need  maps  on  paper;  we  made  our  own  trails, 
without  dependin'  on  maps." 

"  Gee,  I'd  like  to  go  over  and  see  that  battle-field, 
anyway !  "  exclaimed  Chet.  "  There'll  be  arrow-heads 
and  bullets  and  things,  to  find." 

"Yep;  an'  the  old  fort  air  thar,  yet— an'  the  hill 
whar  the  squaws  stayed  an'  screeched.  'Twar  a  big 
fight.  Guess  mebbe  we'd  better  go  to-morrer,  then," 

Thus  was  it  agreed. 

Therefore  in  the  morning  they  cached  away  the  camp 
equipment,  except  what  they  would  take.  For  this 
trip  they  took  more  than  upon  the  war-trail  when  they 
traveled  light.  'Twould  be  two  days  over,  and  a  day 
or  so  there,  and  two  days  back  even  if  they  came 
straight  back.  With  the  bedding,  and  provisions,  and 
the  iron  pot  (which  Dan,  rather  unwillingly,  resigned 
to  the  back  of  Betty)  the  packs  were  quite  respectable 
in  size.  Inasmuch  as  Betty  and  Cotton-tail  would  fol- 
low anyway,  an  ample  outfit,  if  not  too  heavy,  might 
as  well  be  put  upon  them. 

So  good-by  was  said,  once  more,  to  the  cabin  and 
the  pleasant  little  grazing  spot  with  its  hot  and  cold 
springs  and  its  pool.  Old  Dan,  leading,  entered  the 
timber  at  a  different  spot  from  that  entered  for  the 


TROPHIES    OF    A    BATTLE-FIELD     253 

trip  over  the  mountain  by  Blackfoot  Pass,  and  all  the 
morning  they  rode,  up  slope  and  down,  through  tim- 
ber and  brush  and  open — the  boys  without  the  slight- 
est idea  of  their  location.  Occasionally  showed  Red 
Chief,  in  the  one  direction,  and  in  the  opposite  showed 
\Vnrrior  Peak — each  where  the  other  ought  to  be! 
But  Grizzly  Dan  knew. 

After  the  noon  halt  for  lunch  and  for  rest  all  round, 
they  traveled  until  late  afternoon,  when,  veering  to  one 
side,  old  Dan  abruptly  halted  at  a  spring  trickling  down 
to  join  a  stream  which  they  had  been  following. 

"Thar!"  he  grunted,  swinging  stiffly  off. 
"  Thought  I'd  make  it  'fore  night.  This  air  one  o'  the 
best  springs  in  the  country." 

"  Medicine  spring?  " 

"  Nope.    Jest  plain  cold  spring." 

And  cold  it  was — icy  so  that  it  stung  the  tongue,  and 
sweet  and  clear. 

"  Thar's  a  trail  from  whar  the  cabin  stands,  to  the 
old  battle-field;  a  trail  runnin'  on  up  into  the  Green 
River  region,"  volunteered  Grizzly  Dan.  "  But  we  air 
takin'  a  short  cut." 

They  were  too  tired  to  "  dance  medicine  "  this  night. 
They  slept,  beginning  early — Chet  and  Phil  under  their 
buffalo  robe,  which  was  so  much  better  than  common 
tarpaulin;  Dan  under  his;  Bonita  upon  the  boys'  feet. 

Past  noon  the  next  day  old  Dan,  halting  upon  the 
brow  of  a  low  hill,  pointed  before  him.  "  Thar  it  air," 
he  announced. 

Miraculously,  almost,  had  they  arrived,  then.  They 
were  upon  the  verge  of  a  shallow,  gently  rolling  valley, 


254  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

shimmering  in  the  sun,  blue-misted  ranges  forming  the 
far  horizon.  The  valley  was  green  with  herbage; 
through  it  wound  a  stream,  hedged  in  spots  by  willows 
and  aspens.  Not  a  sound  arose.  The  valley  might 
have  rung  to  shot  and  whoop  and  yell,  but  to-day  it 
was  as  peaceful  as  any  Illinois  or  New  York  farm- 
land. 

"  Knew  I  could  find  it,"  remarked  old  Dan.  "  This 
air  it.  Wagh !  Through  that  little  pass  yon,  at  upper 
end  o'  the  valley,  is  whar  the  buff'ler  came  down,  fol- 
lered  by  the  Injuns.  The  biggest  clump  o'  aspens  an' 
willows,  middle  o'  the  valley,  is  whar  we  had  our 
camp,  an'  whar  we  forted.  That  meadow  war  our 
hoss-pasture,  an'  thar  war  beaver  in  the  stream,  an' 
buff'ler  feedin'  on  the  grass  'fore  we  killed  'em  off. 
That  round  hill,  above  camp,  toward  t'other  side  o' 
the  valley,  is  whar  the  squaws  went,  to  look  on  an' 
see  which  licked.  Wagh !  We'll  go  in." 

So  saying,  he  urged  his  spotted  pony  down  the  slope. 
All  eyes,  the  two  boys  followed.  This  was  a  romantic 
spot.  Phil  grasped  tighter  his  carbine;  and  he  felt  a 
martial  thrill  as,  trapper  himself  (at  least,  in  trapper 
garb),  he  rode  for  the  trapper-Indian  battle-field. 

"  Hyar !  Lookee  this  ?  "  bade  old  Dan,  pausing  at 
the  bottom,  on  his  way  to  the  stream  and  the  aspen 
clump.  They  trotted  for  him.  "  Hyar's  yore  Injun 
skull." 

"  Is  it !  "  exclaimed  Chet,  eagerly;  and  he  was  off  his 
horse  to  pick  it  up. 

It  certainly  was  a  skull — a  human  skull,  browned 
and  ancient. 


TROPHIES    OF   A   BATTLE-FIELD     255 

"Aw— is  it?"  queried  Phil,  doubtfully. 

Chet  climbed  aboard  with  it,  and  together  they  ex- 
amined as  they  rode. 

"  Sartin,  sartin,"  assured  old  Dan.  "Round  us 
war  the  Injuns,  in  the  rocks  an*  brush  an'  trees. 
'Tain't  more'n  hundred  an'  fifty  yards  from  the  fort 
to  hyar,  an'  I  reckon  some  o'  us  popped  this  fellow; 
or  mebbe  he  crawled  this  fur.  Thar  war  a  big  Injun 
in  red  breeches  right  about  hyar,  an'  shouldn't  wonder 
if  it's  his.  Is  thar  a  hole  in  the  middle  o'  the  fore- 
head?" 

"  Looks  like  one,"  they  answered. 

"  Wagh!  It  air  one  o'  my  Injuns,  sartin,"  asserted 
old  Dan,  satisfied.  "  He  stuck  his  head  up  an'  I  saw 
him,  an'  so  did  Sally." 

"This  Sally?" 

"No,  boy;  Sally  Fust;  this  rifle  air  Sally  Second. 
That  war  over  sixty  year  ago,  remember." 

Chet  fondly  carried  the  skull ;  Phil  in  vain  kept  his 
eye  out  for  another. 

"  Hyar's  whar  we  forted,"  resumed  old  Dan. 
"  You'll  see  the  fort,  too,  or  I'm  heap  mistaken."  They 
forded  the  stream,  and  entered  the  copse.  Grizzly  Dan 
dismounted.  "  In  hyar,"  he  directed,  as  afoot  they  fol- 
lowed him.  "  Hyar's  an  ax  mark.  An'  see  this  aspen 
trunk,  how  it's  layin'  ?  We  aimed  to  fall  'em  so  they'd 
drop  to  make  a  sort  o'  pen." 

The  outlines  of  a  rude  enclosure,  thick-grown  in- 
side as  well  as  out,  could  be  traced;  the  trunks  of  as- 
pens and  of  a  few  pines,  forming  it,  being  scarred  and 
crumbling. 


256  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Where  was  the  grave?"  prompted  Phil. 

"  I'll  show  'ee.  I'll  show  'ee  the  very  stump  whar 
Frapp  war  posted,  when  he  war  killed,"  declared  old 
Dan,  now  much  interested.  "  This  way — "  and  he 
trudged  through  the  brush.  "  Hyar !  "  he  called ;  only 
to  add  sharply :  "  An'  somebody's  been  at  it,  too ! 
Somebody's  been  liftin'  it.  Thar  air  more  cache-lifters 
about.  Wagh!" 

They  hastened  to  him,  and  found  him  standing,  lean- 
ing upon  his  long  rifle,  and  looking  upon  a  small  area 
of  recently  trampled  and  overturned  earth,  in  an  open- 
ing amidst  the  willows. 

"  Do  'ee  see  ?  "  he  complained.  "  They've  been  dig- 
gin',  they  have.  They  have  mixed  up  those  thar  bones. 
Do'eesee?" 

'  That's  right,"  said  the  boys,  nodding,  and  prop- 
erly indignant.  "  Wagh !  " 

"  Pore  doin's,"  muttered  old  Dan,  now  busily  ex- 
amining. "  Can't  they  let  bare  bones  be.  Hyar  war 
Frapp,  an'  Scofield  an'  Morris  an'  Jones — brave  men 
all,  an'  I  don't  reckon  they  object  to  bein'  mixed ;  but  it 
air  a  desecration.  Those  thar  beaver  poachers !  It  war 
those  thar  beaver  poachers !  Wagh !  It  war !  Same 
tracks  as  back  at  the  shack.  Have  to  see  'bout  this." 
Like  a  dog  on  a  scent  he  threaded  away,  through  the 
brush,  the  boys  after.  "  Hosses  out  hyar,"  he  called 
back.  "  Hosses  out  hyar,  not  many  hours  ago ;  an'  a 
camp — a  night  camp!  Hyar's  the  trail  they  came; 
hyar's  the  trail  bearin'  away.  Sech  doin's  don't  shine 
with  this  coon,  an'  he  air  goin'  to  see  about  it." 

"Trail'em?"  asked  Phil. 


TROPHIES    OF    A    BATTLE-FIELD     257 

"  Sartin." 

"  Do  you  think  they  got  anything  in  the  cache?  " 

"  What  war  thar  to  get,  'cept  bones?  " 

"  I  didn't  know.  But  what  made  them  dig  it  open 
again?" 

"  Kin  savvy,  boy.  I  air  the  only  one  alive  'cept  old 
White  Wolf,  who  fout  hyar  on  that  day ;  an'  I  air  the 
only  one  alive  who  helped  bury  Frapp.  But  those  thar 
pelt  thieves  must  have  had  it  handed  down  to  'em,  some 
way,  'bout  that  gold  mine  an'  they  war  lookin'  for  the 
map.  Or  niebbe  they  war  lookin'  for  the  eighty  dol- 
lars. That  story  o'  the  eighty  dollars  has  gone  fur  an' 
wide ;  the  story  o'  the  gold-mine  map  has  been  limited. 
So  I  don't  know  which.  Wall,  thar  war  nothin'  for  'em 
to  get ;  I've  been  hyar  ahead  of  'em  by  many  a  year. 
They  can  break  open  my  cabin,  an'  I  let  'em ;  but  when 
they  break  open  this  other  cache  an'  don't  have  decency 
to  close  it  up  agin,  over  the  bare  bones  o'  brave  men 
I've  eat  an'  trapped  an'  fout  with,  I  gets  riled.  So 
we'll  jest  take  the  trail.  It  air  warm.  It  air  this 
mornin'." 

"  Better  cover  the  grave  again,  hadn't  we  ?  "  sug- 
gested Chet. 

"  We  had,  boy." 

They  did — laying  the  few  bones  back,  and  filling  the 
loose  soil  in  on  top  of  them.  Old  Dan  removed  his  hat, 
a  moment;  the  boys  had  no  hats  to  remove,  for  they 
were  still  riding  in  handkerchief  turbans;  but  they 
bowed  their  heads,  as  the  grayed  mountain  man 
bowed  his,  and  all  stood  in  silence. 

"  Thar,"    breathed    Grizzly    Dan,    presently.      He 


258  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

brightened  up.  "  Now  'spose  you  want  to  see 
that  stump.  Come  along.  It  ought  to  be  over  hyar. 
It  war  hyar  once.  It  war  a  big  stump;  a  big  pine 
stump." 

Sure  as  a  bee  to  the  bee  tree  was  Grizzly  Dan, 
for— 

"  Found  it,"  he  announced ;  and  they  went  to 
him. 

He  was  standing  beside  a  venerable  stump,  stripped 
of  its  bark,  chipped  and  bored  by  bird  and  worm;  a 
stump  disintegrating  and  partially  buried  in  its  own 
debris. 

*  This  air  it,"  declared  the  old  trapper.  "  Frapp 
war  forted  behind  this,  an*  he  war  peekin'  out,  that- 
away,  try  in*  to  get  sight  o'  some  Injun  out  yonder. 
Thar  war  an  open  space  through  the  willows.  The 
bullet  came,  an'  struck  him  in  the  eye,  an'  over  he  fell 
without  a  word.  It  war  one  o'  the  last  shots  o'  the 
day." 

To  put  himself  exactly  in  the  place,  Phil  stepped  be- 
hind the  ancient  stump,  and  there  squatted,  in  his 
buckskins  and  moccasins,  another  Frapp.  He,  like- 
wise, peered  out — imagining,  all  in  an  instant,  the 
scene :  the  trapper  leader,  couchant,  longing  for  a  shot 
at  the  enemy;  the  smoke,  the  yells,  the  long-haired 
mountain  men  within,  the  painted,  feathered  reds 
without,  the  squaws  upon  the  hill,  and  the  valley  in  up- 
roar and  turmoil.  But  while  he  was  picturing,  and 
seeking  to  be  that  very  Frapp,  his  line  of  sight,  pene- 
trating the  brush  before,  encountered  an  unusual  ob- 
ject. Was  it?  Or  wasn't  it?  Up  he  sprang,  and  with 


TROPHIES    OF   A    BATTLE-FIELD     259 

an  exclamation,  while  Grizzly  Dan  and  Chet  witnessed, 
curious,  he  strode  for  the  spot. 

It  was — and  he  grasped  it  I 

"  Here's  an  old  rifle — flintlock,  too!  "  he  cried. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

"  HAVs    BEEN    LIFTED !  " 

THE  rifle  was  lying  wedged  in  the  fork  of  a  pine 
around  which  aspens  were  thickly  springing.  This 
one  pine  was  fifty  yards  from  the  stump ;  and  only  by 
the  merest  accident,  only  by  chance  as  he  happened 
to  glance  aside  a  little  and  a  tiny  vista  opened  through 
the  many  twigs  and  branches,  did  Phil  notice  tree  and 
weapon. 

Now  reaching  in,  he  carefully  lifted  the  gun  from  its 
resting-place.  Eager  as  usual,  Chet  was  pressing  close 
behind  him. 

"Let's  see,"  he  begged.  "Say!  It's  an  old  one, 
isn't  it?" 

The  rifle  must  have  been  there  many  years.  In  out- 
line it  was  almost  the  counterpart  of  Grizzly  Dan's 
Sally ;  but  rust  coated  with  heavy  layer  the  barrel,  lock, 
butt-plate  and  all  other  metal;  and  the  curved  stock 
was  pitted  and  dull.  However,  in  drawing  it  forth 
from  its  niche  Phil  discovered  that  it  had  been  pro- 
tected by  the  pine  branches  interlacing  above  it,  and 
that  it  was  a  solid  frame  still. 

"  Maybe  it's  a  trapper  rifle  left  from  the  time  of  the 
fight,"  hazarded  Phil,  gloating  over  his  treasure.  "  A 
regular  old  flintlock.  Wish  it  would  shoot." 

"  Hammer's  down  into  the  pan,  boy,"  said  old  Dan. 

260 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED !"  261 

"  She's  been  shot  an'  warn't  reloaded.  That  air  queer. 
Wagh!  Makes  me  think  it  air  Frapp's  gun,  his-self. 
Only  a  dead  man  leaves  his  gun  go  unloaded,  in 
Injun  country.  If  that  air  Frapp's  gun,  it  air  a 
Hawkins  an'  it  air  marked  with  an  '  F '  on  the 
stock." 

"  Might  be  an  '  F/  here;  see?  "  traced  Phil. 
"  Lemme  have  it,"  bade  old  Dan.  "  Wagh!  I  be- 
lieve she  air  a  Hawkins.  Hawkins  rifles  war  a  leetle 
shorter  in  the  barrel  than  the  ornery  run  o'  rifles — but 
they  had  an  awful  long  tongue  to  reach  with !  Sartin 
that  air  an  '  F.'  Yes,  sir,"  and  he  examined  the  piece 
further ;  "  that  air  Frapp's  gun,  it  air.  Now,  I  declar' ! 
My  old  capting's  gun." 

"  What  made  you  think  it  might  be  his,  at  first?" 
asked  Phil. 

"  'Cause  his  gun  war  a  Hawkins,  an'  it  war  liable  to 
be  saved ;  but  I  never  could  find  out  who  got  it.  The 
guns  o'  the  other  three  warn't  anything  special,  but 
I  war  always  curious  to  know  whar  Frapp's  went  to, 
an'  nobody  could  tell  me.  I  'spect  some  fellow  tucked 
it  in  thar,  while  we  war  makin'  the  cache  after  the 
battle;  an'  in  the  hurry  to  get  away  'fore  the  Injuns 
mought  return  he  forgot  it  an'  left  it.  An'  he  mought 
have  died  'fore  he  could  come  back  in  after  day.  So 
thar  it's  been.  Time  I  war  hyar,  I  never  poked  'round 
much ;  it  air  bad  medicine  to  meddle  with  a  place  like 
this.  Wagh !  Let's  get  out." 

'  Trade  you  my  skull  for  your  gun,"  proposed  Chet, 
to  Phil. 

"  No,  you  won't,"  answered  Phil,  satisfied.    "  Don't 


262  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

know  how  I'll  carry  it,  though.  Tie  it  on  a  pack,  I 
guess/' 

"Can  you  cock  it?" 

"  Afraid  to  try.  When  we  get  it  home  we'll  oil  it 
good  and  see." 

"  It's  been  hyar  sixty  year  an'  more,"  reminded  old 
Dan.  "  But  I  reckon  those  thar  locks  air  good  yet ; 
Hawkins  locks  war  prime.  'Spect  you'll  find  some 
grease  an'  patchin  in  that  patch-box  in  the  stock." 

"  Can't  get  the  cover  up ;  rusted  fast,"  complained 
Phil,  prying  with  finger-nails,  and  then  with  a  twig,  at 
the  brass  disk  which  in  the  right  side  of  the  stock  de- 
noted the  patch-box.  Verdigrised  by  age  and  damp- 
ness, it  refused  to  budge. 

However,  there  was  no  time  now  in  which  to  apply 
knife-point,  or  to  fuss  further  with  the  historic  weapon, 
for  old  Dan  was  impatient.  "  Thar's  a  warm  trail 
waitin',"  he  reminded,  at  the  outskirts  of  the  copse, 
seizing  the  lines  of  his  spotted  pony. 

With  Chet's  aid  Phil  stowed  the  rifle  in  under  the 
ropes  of  Cotton-tail's  pack,  and  Chet  tucked  his  skull 
into  the  slicker  behind  his  saddle.  Old  Dan  barely 
waited.  He  led  off  diagonally  from  the  face  of  the 
copse,  and  turned  abruptly  for  the  ridge  beyond.  Fol- 
lowing his  course,  the  boys  found  that  he  was  parallel- 
ing a  line  of  fresh  hoof  marks,  pointing  for  the  ridge. 
Thus  were  they  again  upon  the  war  trail, — this  time 
in  pursuit  of  the  red  man  and  the  black  man,  to  see 
what  other  mischief  was  being  done. 

Grizzly  Dan  rode  at  a  trot.  After  him  rode  in  single 
file  Chet  and  Phil,  and  trotted  Betty,  Cotton-tail,  and 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED  I1'  263 

Bonita.  The  trail  conducted  across  the  meadow,  for 
the  foothills  opposite  those  foothills  from  which  the 
cavalcade  had  approached,  an  hour  before,  to  inves- 
tigate the  battle-ground  and  to  find  the  cache  dis- 
turbed. 

The  ground  was  soft  with  seepage;  the  trail  of  the 
horse  hoofs  was  plain.  Phil  glanced  back,  half  turning 
in  his  saddle,  for  a  look  at  the  battle-field.  Copse  and 
attendant  willows  along  the  stream,  and  the  meadowy 
valley  flanking,  and  the  hills  beyond,  again  lay  lonely 
and  silent,  as  they  were  accustomed  to  lie  throughout 
the  days  and  nights  since  beaver  times.  When  he  faced 
about,  old  Dan  had  halted  with  lifted  hand,  and  upon 
his  pony  headed  across  the  trail  at  right  angles  was 
gazing  down  intently  at  the  ground  beside  him. 

"  Fat  meat  in  the  pot  an'  none  to  eat  it !  "  exclaimed 
old  Dan,  as  the  boys  arrived.  "  Hyar's  whar  the  trail 
changes,  an'  it's  this  coon  who  knows  the  reason  why. 
See  that  thar  new  track?  " 

From  the  right  had  come  into  the  trail  a  single  line 
of  tracks ;  and  the  trail,  bending  sharply  to  the  left,  had 
joined  with  it,  as  if  following  it.  The  boys  nodded. 

V  Cow  track,"  muttered  Phil 

Grizzly  Dan  snorted. 

"  Wagh,  boy!  Do  'ee  think  you're  on  a  farm?  It 
air  cow  kind  that  never  knew  a  brand  'cept  feather  an* 
lead.  See  how  those  'ere  fore  hoofs  sink  in?" 

"Buffalo!"  ejaculated  Chet. 

"  Buff'ler— an'  old  bull  at  that,"  approved  Grizzly 
Dan.  "  One  track  whar  thar  used  to  be  thousands. 
One  track — an'  bloody-minded  pelt  thieves  on  its  trail. 


264  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

See  how  these  hyar  fellows  turned  off?  They  know, 
well  as  I  do !  " 

"  It  is  buffalo,  is  it?  "  ventured  Phil,  scarce  believing. 

"You  ask  me  that,  boy?  Wagh!  It  air  buff'ler, 
'cause  it  carries  all  its  weight  on  its  fore  hoofs ;  it  air 
bull,  'cause  it  sinks  deeper'n  cow;  it  air  old,  'cause  its 
hoofs  air  chipped  an'  splintered  an'  it  air  alone." 

"  Has  to  be  alone,"  prompted  Chet. 

"  Right,  boy.  I  forgot.  It  air  alone  'cause  it  air  the 
last  o'  the  race  in  hyar." 

"  Must  be  the  old  bull  you  told  us  about." 

"  Sartin.  I  knew  it  war  over  in  this  section.  'Spect 
mebbe  those  pelt  an'  meat  thieves  knew,  too,  an'  that 
air  why  they  struck  for  hyar.  But  he's  been  rangin' 
further  into  the  hills." 

"  Must  have  come  out  to  visit  the  battle-field,  the 
same  as  the  rest  of  us,"  suggested  Phil. 

"  Aw,  he  wasn't  living  sixty  years  ago,"  scoffed 
Chet. 

"  Dunno,  dunno,"  mused  Grizzly  Dan.  "  He  air 
heap  old." 

"  Then  what  do  they  want  to  kill  him  for  ?  "  pro- 
tested Phil. 

"Who?" 

"  Those  two  men." 

"  Wagh !  'Cause  they  can ;  an'  they'll  try  to  sell  his 
hid€  an'  head.  Thar'll  be  other  folks  willin'  to  break 
the  law,  an'  buy.  But  we  talk  squaw  talk.  Ride,  ride ; 
they  won't  kill  him  if  we  get  thar  fust  an'  show  'em 
what  we  think." 

"  We'll  day  herd  him  and  night  herd  him,  so  they 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED!"  265 

won't  get  a  chance/'  declared  Chet.  "  There's  a  thou- 
sand dollars'  fine  to  kill  a  buffalo." 

"  Fine's  not  the  idee,"  corrected  old  Dan.  "  The 
idee  air  this  breakin'  o'  the  law,  an'  this  killin'  a  critter 
that  has  a  right  to  live." 

"  The  last  buffalo,  too.  His  meat's  no  good,  any- 
way," chimed  in  Phil.  "  It's  a  shame !  " 

Changing  direction  with  the  new  trend  of  the  trail, 
they  rode.  The  trail  now  followed  the  base  of  the 
hills.  Only  occasionally  could  be  noted  the  split  hoof 
prints  of  the  buffalo  amidst  the  solid  hoof  prints  of  the 
horses;  but  no  side  trail  branched  off,  and  evi- 
dently the  poachers  were  hard  upon  the  heels  of  the 
quarry. 

At  the  head  of  the  valley  the  combined  trail  veered, 
to  enter  a  side  draw,  for  the  hills.  Therefore  veered 
also  the  second  squad  of  pursuers.  Up  the  draw,  and 
into  another  and  up,  led  the  trail,  ever  ascending, 
choosing  as  by  animal  instinct  the  easier  route;  and 
finally  it  struck  a  low  pass  which,  crossing  this  divide 
water-shed  for  the  battle-field  valley,  opened  into 
wooded  country  below. 

Not  always  had  the  trail  been  plain  to  the  eye,  as  in 
the  boggy  ground  at  first.  It  traversed  grass,  hard 
soil,  and  rock;  but  even  though  at  times  it  seemed  to 
have  disappeared  utterly  and  they  themselves  seemed 
to  be  riding  blind,  as  often  as  they  lost  it  so  often  they 
found  it  again,  right  underhoof.  The  old  trapper  was 
an  expert  trailer.  Evidently  experts  also  were  the  two 
riders  preceding.  Phil  was  impressed  with  the  realiza- 
tion that  with  such  a  pair  upon  his  path  the  poor  old 


266  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

buffalo  bull  stood  small  show, — as  small  as  Old  Four- 
Toes  with  the  bear  baiters  luring  him. 

Upon  the  pass  over  the  divide  Grizzly  Dan  halted  his 
pony  and  rested  in  the  saddle,  to  survey  the  landscape 
before.  Up  here  the  sunshine  was  strong,  streaming 
level  from  the  west ;  but  below  lay  the  shadow  of  even- 
ing, for  the  afternoon  was  almost  ended. 

"  That  buff'ler  aims  to  get  out  o'  the  country,  shore," 
commented  old  Dan,  as  the  boys  drew  up  beside  him. 
"  Acts  as  if  he  smelt  Injun,  he  do,  an'  war  in  a  heap 
hurry  to  cache  himself.  Trail  airn't  much  fresher'n 
when  we  started  on  it,  either;  so  I  reckon  he'll  be 
killed,  butchered,  an'  tanned  'fore  we  arrive.  Wagh! 
An'  we'll  have  to  camp  soon,  we  will.  Light's  failin', 
an'  this  chile  air  powerful  wolfish  for  the  pot." 

"There's  a  smoke!"  announced  Chet  suddenly, 
pointing. 

Phil's  eyes  leaped  to  the  spot;  for  he  and  Chet  had 
had  it  drummed  into  them  by  their  leader  that  to  white 
Injuns  smoke  in  .the  wilds  was  important  token.  In- 
stantly a  more  explosive  "Wagh!"  than  customary 
burst  from  Grizzly  Dan's  bearded  lips. 

"  Signal  smoke !  "  he  declared  shortly.  "  Watch, 
now !  Injuns  at  work !  " 

The  smoke  was  ascending  in  a  spiral,  interrupted  by 
distinct  puffs;  and  distant  though  it  was,  across  the 
stretch  of  timber  falling  away  below  and  rising  again, 
apparently  from  another  ridge  beyond  it  wafted 
clearly  outlined  against  the  northern  sky  by  the  setting 
sun. 

Another  explosive  and  guttural  "  Wagh !  "  of  intense 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED!"  267 

emotion  issued  from  the  old  trapper,  "  A  coup !  "  he 
exclaimed.  "  Some  Injun  air  signaling  a  coup!  It  air 
a  coup  smoke,  boy !  Ha'r's  been  lifted !  I  tell  'ee,  that 
air  a  coup  smoke !  " 

Phil's  blood  ebbed,  and  in  the  second  before  it  surged 
back  again  he  felt  an  odd  chill;  for  the  old  trapper's 
voice  and  mien  carried  even  more  alarm  than  did  his 
words. 

"  Aw "  attempted  Chet,  incredulous,  and  was  in- 
terrupted. 

"  It  air !  "  repeated  Grizzly  Dan.  "  This  chile  knows 
a  coup  smoke  when  he  sees  it.  He's  seen  it  too  fre- 
quent in  his  life.  Thar  air  hostiles  about,  I  tell  'ee. 
Ha'r's  been  lifted.  Some  o'  those  young  bucks  have 
broken  loose,  jest  as  I  feared,  an'  thar's  bad  work 
afoot."  He  paused,  as  if  planning,  while  his  twinkling 
eyes  swept  right  and  left. 

"  What'd  we  better  do,  then?  "  invited  Phil,  trying 
to  keep  his  voice  steady,  and  to  be  steady  himself. 
Where  were  the  Professor  and  Pete  and  the  girls; 
and  defenseless  Gus ;  and  Buster's  party  ?  But  Buster's 
party  were  well-armed,  and  did  not  have  Cherry  and 
Molly,  or  sheep. 

"  I  war  thinkin',"  mused  old  Dan,  simply.  "  We  air 
three  mountain  men — leastwise,  we  air  playin'  at  bein' 
three  mountain  men ;  an'  when  hostiles  air  out,  an'  emi- 
grants an'  greenhorns  air  on  the  road,  mountain 
man's  duty,  like  duty  o'  any  man,  air  to  ride  an'  j'ine  in 
the  fightin',  on  the  white  side.  Wagh!  But  you  air 
two  boys,  after  all — an'  I  don't  reckon  as  I  ought- 
course,  we  can  jest  cache  ourselves " 


268  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  No,  sir !  "  protested  Chet,  stanchly.  "  You  tell  us 
what  to  do  and  we'll  help  you  do  it." 

"  That's  right,"  supported  Phil,  at  once,  and  was 
relieved  to  say  so. 

"Good!"  approved  the  old  trapper.  "Wagh! 
That's  talk;  that's  mountain-man  talk  for  'ee."  Still 
he  hesitated.  "  Ought  to  follow  round  by  this  hyar 
ridge,"  he  muttered.  "  High  ground  air  the  best. 
But  thar's  the  trail ;  two  men  a-ridin'  it ;  they  may  be 
meat  thieves  an'  wuss — but  they  air  human  bein's  an* 
they  may  not  know  Injun  sign.  We  can  follow  the 
ridge  an'  get  'round  into  the  country  whar  we  left 
them  thar  gals  an'  that  thar  Professor — or  we  can  get 
into  it  jest  as  quick  by  the  low  ground  whar  these  two 
fellows  we're  after  air  headin'." 

Again  he  hesitated,  doubtfully. 

"  One  way  is  as  quick  as  the  other,  then  ?  "  queried 
Phil. 

"  High  ground  air  the  safer  for  us ;  an'  hyar  air  the 
place  to  quit  the  trail,  if  we  quit  it ' 

"  I  guess,  if  it's  all  the  same,  we'd  better  follow  the 
trail  as  long  as  we  can  and  try  to  catch  up  with  those 
two  men  and  warn  them,"  said  Chet  slowly,  flushing. 
"  We  don't  want  to  forget  those  other  people,  in  that 
first  country — but  we  can  do  both  by  the  ride,  you 
say." 

"  Sartin.    That  air,  we  can  try." 

"  The  trail  and  the  lower  route,  then,  sure !  "  spoke 
Phil.  "  Doesn't  matter  which  is  the  safer  for  us;  we 
ought  not  to  think  of  ourselves,  especially — only  to  get 
through." 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED!"  269 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  Grizzly  Dan,  nodding  approv- 
ingly. "  Come  on."  He  clapped  the  pan  of  his  flint- 
lock, to  shake  the  priming  firmer,  and  digging  his 
moccasined  heels  into  his  spotted  pony's  ribs  plunged 
down  from  the  verge  where  they  had  been  halted. 
After  him  filed  the  cavalcade. 

"  Wish  I'd  brought  more  cartridges,"  deplored  Chet. 

Cedars  here  predominated.  The  trail  of  the  buffalo 
and  of  the  horsemen  was  plain  in  the  litter  of  dried 
fronds.  Old  Dan  led  at  rapid  pace,  half  trot,  half 
springy  walk,  and  the  succession  of  shorter  slopes 
forming  the  one  long  slope  flowed  by  rod  after  rod  in 
quick  succession.  The  mountain  man  rode  fearlessly, 
evidently  not  expecting  immediate  danger ;  but  his  eyes, 
as  indicated  by  the  slight  movement  of  his  head,  were 
busy  peering  from  side  to  side,  exploring  the  silent 
recesses  of  the  fragrant,  low-branched  cedars  amidst 
which  descended  the  trail.  Noting  his  attitude,  reas- 
suring though  the  half-careless  pace  was,  Phil  likewise 
kept  eye  and  ear  acute,  thumb  upon  hammer  of  carbine 
held  across  saddle-horn.  Before  him  "  plugged  "  in 
the  wake  of  their  leader  the  more  stolid  Chet  (but  he, 
also,  watching  alert) ;  behind  followed  the  two  pack 
animals  and  Bonita.  At  every  open  space  affording 
any  outlook  Grizzly  Dan  slackened,  a  moment,  to 
sweep  the  horizon.  No  fresh  smoke  or  other  sign  ap- 
peared. 

From  the  sunshine  they  entered  the  shadow  of  the 
lower  levels.  An  hour's  ride  brought  them  to  the 
bottom,  apparently,  of  the  divide.  Here  must  Grizzly 
Dan  halt  again;  for  the  trail  divided,  as  if  buffalo  and 


270  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

horseman  had  turned  in  the  one  direction,  through  the 
intercepting  valley,  and  horseman  with  perhaps  a  led 
animal  or  two  had  turned  in  the  other. 

"  That  air  bad,"  mused  Grizzly  Dan.  "  We  must 
take  ch'ice.  BufFler  changes  direction  like  as  if  he 
mought  have  smelt  Injun  or  somethin'  else  hostile ;  his 
trail  war  warm,  an'  one  man  goes  on  to  run  him  down, 
an'  t'other  takes  t'other  way,  with  the  hosses;  likely 
to  make  camp  or  to  meet  his  partner  'round  the  hill. 
Wall,  we'll  have  to  let  the  buff'ler  go ;  trail  o'  the  man 
with  the  pack-hosses  air  the  trail  for  camp,  an'  it  air 
the  direction  o'  the  country  beyond,  too.  But  keep 
yore  senses  primed  for  sign.  I  tell  'ee,  Injuns  air  been 
hyar'bouts.  See  that  mule's  ears  ?  " 

Sure  enough,  Betty  the  dun  mule  was  staring  about 
with  ears  erect,  nostrils  widened,  tail  stiffened.  Yet 
her  attitude  was  not  so  much  one  of  real  alarm  as  it 
was  one  of  strong  suspicion.  And  so  her  master  inter- 
preted. 

"  They've  been  hyar'bouts,"  he  repeated,  "  but  they 
air  not  close.  Wagh!  Come." 

Now  obliged  to  abandon  the  buffalo  bull  to  his  fate, 
whatever  that  might  be,  they  turned  to  pursue  their 
rescue  of  human  beings.  As  Dan  had  intimated,  be- 
yond the  possible  camp  of  the  two  poachers  lay  perhaps 
those  other  camps  also. 

For  an  hour  they  rode  in  the  new  direction.  The 
valley  narrowed — but  not  to  pinch  out  entirely ;  it  gave 
way  like  a  pass  to  another  valley  or  draw  joining  at  an 
angle,  as  if  indeed  the  trail  was  leading  around  the  hill. 
The  narrowing  was  dark  and  brushy,  with  a  thick 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED!"  271 

bunch  of  pines  shading  it;  the  sunlight  long  had  left 
it,  so  that  it  brooded  chill  and  somber. 

At  slackened  pace  they  approached  it,  old  Dan  and 
the  two  boys  alike  impressed  with  a  certain  serious 
aspect  which  seemed  to  enshroud  the  place.  However, 
neither  Indian  nor  Indian  sign  had  again  appeared. 
Phil  told  himself  over  and  over  that  he  must  not  be 
nervous — old  Dan  might  have  been  mistaken — Indians 
did  not  go  raiding,  in  this  day  and  age,  Nevertheless, 
as  a  mountain  man  he  realized  that  this  was  a  good 
place  for  an  ambuscade.  Suddenly  an  energetic  snort 
from  Betty  the  mule  made  him  fairly  rise  in  his 
stirrups.  Simultaneously  old  Dan  reined  his  spotted 
pony.  The  cavalcade  halted  short,  and  the  riders 
hastily  turned  in  their  saddles. 

Long  ears  jutted  forward,  eyes  bulging,  nostrils 
swelling,  sides  heaving,  fore  feet  braced  and  haunches 
aquiver,  Betty  was  standing  stock-still,  tense,  as  if  she 
might  have  seen  a  bear  in  the  trail. 

"  Wagh !  "  muttered  Grizzly  Dan  cautiously,  craning 
and  peering,  while  he  slightly  shifted  his  rifle,  in  readi- 
ness, and  hitched  forward  his  powder-horn. 

An  odd  trembling  pervaded  Phil,  as  they  waited, 
expectant.  But  he  saw  that  Chet  was  sitting  firmly, 
knees  pressed  to  his  horse,  gun  poised  easily,  and  horse 
and  self  turned  a  little  sideways  for  better  sight  and 
action ;  and  so  he  himself  advanced  Pepper  just  enough 
to  provide  space  and  extend  the  firing-line,  and  sat 
as  firmly — his  heart  thumping. 

"  Stay  back,"  bade  old  Dan,  in  undertone.  "  Drat 
that  'ere  mule.  I  don't  sense  Injun.  She  do.  That 


272  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

smoke  may  have  been  hyar,  some'eres ;  but  if  thar  war 
any  coup  counted  Injuns'd  be  fur  away,  by  this  time. 
They'd  be  too  scared  at  what  they'd  done.  Doesn't 
seem  natteral  they'd  be  waitin'  in  thar.  I  tell  'ee :  you 
boys  take  the  pack  hosses  'round,  up  above ;  I'll  scout 
on  t'other  side.  Can't  be  many  Injuns  thar;  if  you 
come  on  pony  tracks,  signal  me;  if  you  get  attackted 
bad,  fort  by  shootin'  the  pack  animiles  an'  layin'  be- 
hind 'em/' 

"  What  about  you,  though?  "  asked  Phil,  as  he  and 
Chet  seized  each  a  lead-rope. 

"  I  air  a  mountain  man,  an'  can  take  keer  o'  myself. 
If  I  get  thrown  cold  you'll  have  to  take  keer  o'  your- 
selves, best  you  can.  But  I  reckon  I  can  out-Injun  any 
Injun  o'  to-day,  an'  in  case  o'  trouble  we'll  make  a 
j'inin',  somehow.  Old  Sally  an'  I'll  get  through.  Go 
on  up  the  hill.  We'll  cover  each  other,  acrost  an* 
acrost." 

He  branched  off,  descending  as  for  a  detour;  the 
two  boys  turned  up,  for  their  detour.  As  they  rode, 
they  watched  him  and  the  little  patch  of  timber. 

Old  Dan  crossed  the  sagy,  brushy  gulch,  for  the 
farther  side.  With  trickle  of  earth  and  clatter  of 
occasional  dislodged  stone,  the  boys  led  their  pack- 
animals  along  the  opposite  or  hither  side.  The  pine 
clump  bided  silent  and  dark,  betraying  not  its  secret. 
And  the  suspense  was  painful. 

Proceeding  slowly,  with  eye  and  ear  and  even  finger- 
tips set  to  respond  to  the  least  alarm,  they  had  arrived 
above  the  foot  of  the  little  grove,  when  Chet,  in  ad- 
vance, stopped.  With  a  warning  "  Shht !  "  he  pointed 


"HA'R'S    BEEN    LIFTED!"  273 

at  the  ground  before  Medicine  Eye's  nose ;  Phil  looked, 
and  saw  tracks — hoof  tracks!  If  hoof  tracks,  they 
probably  were  the  pony  tracks  about  which  old  Dan 
had  cautioned.  They  were  heading  right  into  the  patch 
of  trees. 


CHAPTER  XX 

MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO   THE   RESCUE 

IT  was  not  a  single-file  trail;  it  was  a  trail  broader 
and  more  confused,  as  if  several  horsemen  might  have 
ridden  down,  in  a  hurry,  two  or  three  abreast  or  in 
irregular  formation,  picking  each  his  own  route.  Chet 
raised  his  arm,  to  catch  old  Dan's  eye  if  possible ;  and 
then  might  they  see  that  old  Dan  was  off  his  horse,  its 
bridle-lines  about  his  elbow,  while  he  scrutinized  the 
clump  of  trees.  He  made  a  fair  mark,  but  he  did  not 
seem  afraid. 

He  instantly  noted  Chefs  sign;  and  pointing  down 
again  Chet  with  a  motion  of  the  hand  indicated  that 
here  was  a  trail  running  into  the  trees,  and  by  four 
fingers  would  indicate  also  that  the  horses  numbered 
four.  That  was  clever  of  Chet.  Grizzly  Dan  nodded. 
He  advanced  a  few  steps,  as  if  looking  for  sign  there 
likewise;  and  suddenly  mounting,  he  rode  straight 
down  for  the  clump. 

"  Aw— look  at  that!  "  gasped  Chet.  "  Cover  him! 
Hold  yore  gun  on  those  trees  an'  fill  'em  full  o'  lead 
if  they  make  a  whimper!  " 

With  their  guns  at  their  shoulders,  along  the  barrels 
they  tensely  watched  both  Dan  and  the  copse. 

"  Don't  shoot  him/'  murmured  Phil.  "  Bullets  are 
liable  to  glance." 

"  I'll  take  care — and  so'll  he,"  answered  Chet, 
grimly. 

274 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    275 

On  down  his  flank  of  the  narrow  draw  rode  Grizzly 
Dan  at  plunging  trot;  now  he  was  near  the  timber 
patch — he  was  almost  inside  the  first  outlying  pine  or 
spruce.  Phil  held  his  breath,  for  the  shot  that  should 
be  coming  now  if  ever.  But  neither  shot  nor  wild  yell 
broke  the  utter  silence ;  and  in  among  the  trees  them- 
selves entered  the  fearless  old  trapper.  The  growth 
was  dense  enough  to  swallow  him  amidst  its  shades  of 
eve,  and  his  picturesque  figure  on  the  spotted  pony 
disappeared. 

With  the  muzzles  of  their  guns  the  boys  continued 
to  cover  the  ambush  place.  Phil  strained  eye  and  ear 
for  token  of  any  struggle,  but  naught  alarming  be- 
trayed itself, — naught  more  alarming  than  the  fact 
that  old  Dan  stayed  in.  He  did  not  reappear  from 
those  somber  depths. 

They  waited,  more  and  more  uneasy,  and  Chet  began 
to  growl  and  fidget.  Slowly  they  lowered  their 
weapons. 

"  What's  the  matter,  you  think?  "  said  Chet. 

"  Don't  know.  Don't  hear  him  or  see  him.  Do 
you  ?  "  replied  Phil,  now  alarmed  again. 

"  Uh  uh,"  muttered  Chet. 

So  they  stared  vainly  at  the  rapidly  darkening  timber 
patch. 

"  I'm  going  down/'  declared  Chet,  abruptly.  "  You 
stay  up  here  and  cover  me." 

"No,  sir!"  protested  Phil.  "I'll  go.  You're  a 
better  shot  than  I  am.  You  stay  up  here  and  do  the 
covering,  yourself." 

"  Both  go,  then.    Leave  the  pack  animals  here  and 


276  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

spread  out,"  grunted  Chet;  but  just  as  they  had 
dropped  the  lead  ropes  and  were  heading  Medicine 
Eye  and  Pepper  down  for  the  mysterious  copse,  at  the 
lower  edge  old  Dan  rode  out.  With  a  circular  motion 
of  his  fringed  arm  he  waved  them  to  come  on,  below 
him.  Re-grasping  the  lead  ropes  of  Betty  and  Cotton- 
tail, gladly  they  rode  down,  Betty  still  snorting  and 
afraid. 

Grizzly  Dan  met  them,  about  two  hundred  yards 
below  the  timber  patch — or  about  where  they  and  he 
had  separated  for  the  reconnoiter.  Now  the  sun  had 
long  sunk  and  twilight  was  fading.  In  the  dusk  the 
old  trapper's  bushy  but  lean  visage  bore  a  strangely 
'drawn,  set,  and  well-nigh  fierce  expression. 

"  What's  the  matter?  Any  Indians?  "  asked  Chet, 
quickly. 

"  None  thar." 

"  Didn't  that  trail  go  in  ?  We  found  a  fresh  hawss 
trail,  pointing  right  in,  down  the  hill." 

"  Went  in,  an'  went  through.    How  many  went  in  ?  " 

"  Four,  we  thought." 

"  Nine  came  out." 

"  Nothing  in  there,  then?  " 

"  You  stayed  so  long  we  started  to  go  in  after  you," 
added  Phil. 

"  Wall,  I  had  to  look  round,"  explained  Grizzly  Dan. 
"  Let's  off  saddle  an'  packs,  an'  camp  a  bit." 

"  How  about  that  other  trail  ?  " 

"Which  one?" 

'  The  one  we  were  following  when  we  struck  Injun 
sign.  This  one." 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    277 

"  Wall,"  said  old  Dan,  hesitantly,  "  it's  petered  out/' 

"  Where?    Doesn't  it  hit  the  timber?  " 

"  Some.  But  off  packs,  off  packs ;  an*  unsaddle. 
Time  to  camp." 

"  Shucks !  Hate  to  quit,"  deplored  Chet,  as  they 
proceeded  to  strip  mule  and  horses.  "  No  water  here, 
either." 

"  Wall,  we  airn't  quittin',  boy,"  answered  old  Dan, 
still  hesitant.  "  But  the  man  we're  trailin'  has  quit." 

Something  in  Dan's  tone  halted  their  fingers  in  their 
tasks ;  and  with  an  "  Oh !  "  the  two  boys  looked  upon 
him. 

"  Why  ?  Did  the  Indians  take  him  along?  "  queried 
Phil,  awkwardly. 

"  Not  exactly,  boy ;  not  all  of  him.  I  found 
him.  He's  in  thar.  They  took  his  hosses,  though,  I 
reckon." 

A  chill  that  was  not  only  the  chill  of  the  night  swept 
in  upon  the  little  group.  Phil  felt  it. 

"Was  that  the  coup?"  demanded  Chet,  in  odd, 
carefully  even  voice. 

"  It  war,"  replied  old  Dan ;  and  Phil  caught  breath 
as  if  braced  against  a  dash  of  cold  water.  Now  he  and 
Chet  knew.  Old  Dan  continued : 

"  You  see,  when  you  sighted  four  hosses  goin'  in  an' 
I  sighted  all,  an'  more,  makin'  a  trail  out,  rememberin' 
that  coup  smoke  I  pretty  nigh  could  guess  what  mought 
have  happened.  So  in  I  went — an'  all  I  was  afraid  of 
war  that  you  boys  mought  come  after  me.  What  war 
done  must  have  been  done  'bout  this  noon.  'Spect  a 
couple  o'  Injuns  lay  in  that  thar  timber  patch,  an'  when 


278  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

the  man  we  war  trailin'  rode  in,  unsuspecting  they 
wiped  him  out.  They  made  a  coup  smoke  to  signal  the 
rest  o'  their  band,  who  rode  over  that  ridge  on  yore 
side,  an'  down,  and  all  lit  out  in  a  hurry,  up  t'other  side. 
They  took  the  plunder  'long  with  'em.  Wagh !  They 
did!" 

"Did  they  take  him—?"  ventured  Phil.  It  was 
time  to  know  the  truth. 

"  Nope,"  said  old  Dan,  simply.  With  trembling 
fingers  he  unfastened  a  knot  in  a  lash-rope.  "  That's 
what  war  the  trouble — that  air  what  kept  me  so  long. 
They  didn't  take  him;  wisht  they  had.  But  I  did  the 
best  I  could." 

"  Oh !  "  gasped  the  boys. 

"  Who  was  it?  "  queried  Chet. 

"  That  thar  red  man.  I  'spected  it  mought  be  either 
he  or  the  black  man.  Black  man  must  have  gone 
'round  t'other  way,  after  the  buff 'ler.  He's  safe ;  or  he 
air  not.  May  have  got  him,  too." 

Chet  interrupted. 

"  Come  on ! "  he  exclaimed,  aflame  with  purpose. 
"  What  do  we  stop  here  for  ?  Aren't  we  going  to  warn 
those  other  people,  in  the  park  ?  Come  on !  We  don't 
camp,  do  we  ?  Throw  yore  saddle  on,  Phil !  " 

"Wait,  now;  jest  keep  cool,"  reproved  old  Dan. 
"  Got  to  camp — but  not  for  all  night.  Half  an  hour 
from  now,  an'  nobody  can  follow  a  trail  'cept  on  hands 
an'  knees,  feelin*  for  it.  Thar'll  be  a  moon,  boy,  after 
a  bit;  an'  with  hosses  freshened  we  can  take  the  trail 
at  a  trot.  So  I  reckoned  we'd  turn  the  hosses  out,  an* 
fill  our  meat-bags,  an'  cache  our  packs ;  an'  by  the  time 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    279 

we  war  ready  agin  the  moon'd  help  us,  an*  we'd  get 
thar  all  the  quicker." 

Chet  simmered  down  as  swiftly  as  he  had  boiled 
over.  "  All  right,"  he  said  reluctantly. 

"How  far  is  it?"  asked  Phil. 

"Whar?" 

"  Over  across ;  the  other  side  the  mountain,  where 
we  saw  those  parties." 

"  'Bout  thirty  mile." 

"  Are  the  Indians  heading  that  way?  " 

"  Mought — an'  mought  not.  Hard  to  tell  jest  whar 
they're  headin'.  They'll  travel  fast,  at  fust;  they're 
scared  at  what  they  did.  Scalpin'  airn't  common  with 
this  generation ;  an*  it  war  done  by  young  bucks,  too, 
'cause  it  war  done  very  clumsy.  Wagh !  They'd  better 
not  have  tried  it  at  all.  I  tell  'ee,  sech  doin's  don't 
shine,  for  e  ther  red  or  white  blood,  whichever  it  air 
that  goes  bad.  But  now  one  o'  you  lead  a  couple  o'  the 
bosses  down  further  into  the  bottom  o'  the  gulch. 
Thar's  some  water  tricklin'  through,  I  noticed.  An' 
t'other  can  be  collectin'  wood,  an1  we'll  eat.  I'm 
wolfish." 

"  No  danger  here,  then,  is  there  ?  "  remarked  Phil, 
as  he  took  a  rope,  to  make  the  trip  with  the  horses. 

"  No.  Injuns  air  scared,  I  tell  'ee,"  assured  old 
Dan.  "  Scared  as  any  white  man'd  be.  They  wouldn't 
stay  'round  hyar." 

Nevertheless,  it  was  with  a  creepy  feeling,  and  a 
comforting  grip  on  his  carbine,  that  down  in  the  deeper 
gloom  of  the  gulch-bottom  Phil  waited  a  moment  while 
his  horses  noisily  sucked  at  the  thin  stream.  The 


280  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

flicker  of  fire,  above  and  awaiting  him,  looked  good; 
and  lie  willingly  returned  to  it. 

Chet  and  old  Dan  had  started  supper,  and  the  camp 
was  almost  cheery.  Nobody  referred  again  to  the 
tragedy  in  the  timber  patch ;  their  thoughts  were  upon 
the  future  rather  than  upon  the  past.  Thirty  miles  or 
more  away  were  Gus — and  perhaps  Buster  and  camp — 
and  perhaps,  oh,  perhaps,  Cherry  and  Molly  and  the 
Professor  and  Pete.  To  hard-riding  Indian  outlaws, 
thirty  miles  was  little. 

"  Eat,  eat,"  bade  old  Dan.  "  Eat  for  all  night  an' 
mebbe  all  to-morrow.  We've  got  business  ahead  that 
won't  let  us  stop  till  we  ride  to  the  end — or  leastwise  " 
(and  he  attempted  his  old-time  chuckle)  "  till  we  get 
stuck  plumb  in  the  middle." 

"  Strip,  do  we  ?  "  asked  Chet,  succinctly.  He  was 
not  much  of  a  talker,  at  a  crisis,  was  Chet ;  he  acted. 

"  Cache  everything  'cept  what  we  carry  in  us  or  on 
us,"  replied  old  Dan,  succinct,  himself.  "  Pack 
animiles'll  follow;  but  packs  can't." 

So,  after  a  hearty  supper  of  the  venison  brought 
from  the  shack,  they  three  went  to  work  upon  a  cache. 
With  that  marvelous  sense  which  seemed  to  overlook 
nothing,  Grizzly  Dan  ha'd  evidently  marked  a  spot  near 
by,  where  a  shelving  rock  out-thrust  from  a  slope ;  and 
here  in  the  dimness  they  dug  with  ax  and  knives  and 
sharp  sticks  and  shoveled  with  tin  plates,  until  they  had 
made  a  cave,  the  shelf  left  as  roof.  Toiling,  they 
stuffed  it  full  with  the  camp  equipment — retaining  only 
a  buffalo  robe  apiece,  for  bedding,  behind  the  saddle. 
Even  Grizzly  Dan's  beloved  pot  must  be  resigned. 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    281 

"  That  air  a  terrible  pore  cache,"  criticised  the  old 
trapper,  dubiously,  as  they  did  their  best  to  scatter  the 
earth  and  to  make  the  covering  of  brush  inconspicuous. 
"  Blind  man'd  see  it  in  the  dark.  Cache  ought  to  be 
leveled  smooth  an'  a  fire  built  on  it;  or  live  sod  plao-d 
agin  its  mouth ;  or  some  sech  trick.  But  don't  reckon 
many  folk'll  pass  this  way  'fore  we  come  back.  Wagh ! 
It  air  leetle  to  risk  an'  leetle  to  lose,  anyhow,  in  a  case 
like  this." 

"  There's  the  moon,"  warned  Chet,  alert. 

"  Saddle  up,"  responded  their  leader,  as  they  hoped 
that  he  would. 

Before  the  moon  was  fully  above  the  horizon,  they 
were  crossing  the  shadowed  bottom  of  the  gulch  and 
were  en  route  to  climb  the  opposite  slope,  into  the 
brightness  now  flooding  the  high  ground.  Grizzly  Dan 
of  course  had  slightly  the  advance,  to  pick  the  trail. 
Horses'  noses  to  his  girths,  the  boys,  eager,  pressed 
after,  one  on  either  side;  and  as  had  been  expected, 
Betty  and  Cotton-tail,  declining  to  be  deserted,  fol- 
lowed, traveling  bare  and  light.  Bonita  soberly 
trotted  after,  a  shaggy  shape  scarcely  to  be  seen  in  the 
sage. 

The  top  of  the  ridge  was  in  the  full  shine.  Changing 
direction  upon  it,  they  rode  along  it  until  they  crossed 
the  trail  from  the  timber  patch.  Without  a  word  old 
Dan  turned  in  the  deep,  plain  hoof  tracks  of  that 
hurrying,  guilty  band,  and  the  stern  ride  was  actually 
begun. 

Across  the  broad  level  minor  divide,  here,  and  down 
into  the  next  draw,  where  already  the  moonbeams  were 


282  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

penetrating,  led  the  pony  trail.  At  steady  trot  which 
would  eat  up  the  miles  faster  than  any  mixture  of 
spasmodic  rush  and  enforced  rest,  the  little  cavalcade 
pursued  those  who  had  made  it. 

"  Wonder  if  we'll  get  there?  "  spoke  Chet. 

"  May  not  be  needed,"  reminded  Phil. 
'  That  thar  party  with  the  two  gals  ought  to  be  out 
o'  the  park,  if  they  did  as  I  told  'em  to,"  grunted  old 
Dan.  "  Cowboy  acted  as  if  he  war  goin'  to  take  his 
party  out,  too.  O'  course,  they  can  give  a  pretty 
good  account  o'  themselves,  in  a  scrimmage,  if  they 
have  a  chance.  Sheep  herder  air  likely  to  lose  his 
ha'r." 

"  Pshaw !    Gus !  "  bemoaned  Phil. 

"  Well,  he  won't  either,  if  he  has  any  chance,"  de- 
clared Chet,  stanchly.  "  But  his  gun  was  busted." 

"  It  air  jest  a  few  bad  hearts  doin'  this — bad  hearts 
in  some  o'  the  young  fellows  who  don't  exactly  reelize, 
an'  who  air  egged  on  by  some  o'  the  old  men  who  don't 
keer,"  volunteered  Grizzly  Dan.  '  They  air  layin'  up 
a  heap  o'  trouble  for  themselves." 

Had  the  ride  been  upon  an  errand  less  serious  than 
that  of  saving  lives,  Phil  would  have  enjoyed  it  greatly. 
Even  as  matters  were,  he  could  not  help  appreciating 
the  strangeness  and  the  beauty  of  it.  The  light  of  the 
moon  almost  full  flooded  the  open  brush  of  flat  and  of 
draw,  streamed  in  among  the  timber,  and  everywhere 
evolved  tender  light  and  startling  shadows.  The 
world  was  silent.  Miles  of  its  rolling  landscape  was 
deserted,  apparently — until,  again,  rabbits  nibbled 
amidst  cedars  and  sage,  occasionally  deer  went  trotting 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    283 

and  bounding,  a  coyote  surveyed  from  hillock  or  rock, 
and  shapes  unlisted  slunk  and  vanished. 

Little  more  had  been  uttered,  when  in  a  silvery  draw 
old  Dan  checked  his  pony. 

"  Nigh  one  o'clock,"  he  said.  "  Can  tell  by  the  Big 
B'ar.  It  points  like  a  clock.  An'  I'll  tell  'ee  'nother 
thing ;  the  trail  air  pinchin'  out.  We've  been  followin' 
nine  hosses;  now  we  air  followin'  five.  Did  'ee  see 
whar  they've  been  adroppin'  off,  back  thar?  " 

"  No ;  7  didn't/'  confessed  Phil. 

Chet  grunted  similar  acknowledgment.  This  brief 
halt  bothered  him ;  he  wanted  to  move  right  along. 

"  Wall,  I  did,"  drawled  old  Dan.  "  That  air  Injun 
way,  when  they  think  they'll  be  followed.  These 
fellows'll  be  droppin'  off,  an'  droppin'  off,  till  we'll  be 
on  the  trail  o'  jest  one,  an'  that  air  likely  to  be  a  loose 
hoss,  of  no  'count.  Wagh!  Don't  this  chile  know 
sign  ?  He  do.  We'll  quit  this  hyar,  or  we'll  be  ridin' 
cl'ar  into  Canady  on  a  wild  goose  chase.  We'll  quit 
this  hyar,  an'  we'll  make  a  shorter  trail  to  warn  those 
thar  white  folks.  That  air  our  bus'ness,  anyhow." 
With  that,  he  turned  at  right  angles,  up  a  side  draw. 

"  We  shorely  ought  to  warn  'em,"  agreed  Chet, 
soberly;  and  he  and  Phil  turned  also. 

As  for  Phil,  he  was  utterly  lost;  and  he  presumed 
that  Chet  was  in  the  same  fix.  They  could  only  depend 
upon  Dan  to  use  his  best  judgment  and  get  through  by 
the  quickest  route.  Making  their  own  trail,  they  three, 
with  Betty  and  Cotton-tail  and  Bonita  toiling  after, 
now  rode  again,  in  the  moonlight,  amidst  timber  and 
sage  and  in  frequent  grassy  park,  sometimes  high  above 


284  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

a  slumbrous  land,  and  sometimes  inclosed  by  rock  and 
slope  equally  as  slumbrous.  Slowly  the  moon  de- 
scended into  the  west,  marking,  for  Phil  at  least,  the 
passing  of  the  hours ;  slowly,  as  waned  the  moonlight, 
the  sage  and  timber  and  meadow  and  eastern  sky 
brightened  with  another  light ;  and  with  limbs  stiffened 
by  the  saddle  and  faces  stiffened  by  the  chill  of  the 
night  air,  in  the  pink  of  the  dawning,  to  twitter  of  the 
wakening  birds,  upon  a  piny  crest  the  little  party  halted 
their  stumbling  horses,  while  old  Dan  peered  over  the 
country  below. 

"  Wagh !  "  he  exclaimed  instantly.  "  Somebody's 
on  the  move."  And  he  pointed. 

Below,  amidst  the  misty  morning  which  barely  re- 
vealed their  outlines,  two  mounted  figures  were  travers- 
ing the  valley. 

"Indians?" 

"  No.  Whites.  'Spect  we'd  better  head  'em  off. 
May  need  'em."  And  down  upon  weary  pony  dashed 
old  Dan ;  and  down  dashed  the  others. 

»But  the  two  horsemen  were  traveling  at  rapid  gait 
and  bade  fair  to  keep  their  distance.  Not  until,  half- 
way, old  Dan's  ready  flintlock  spoke  with  sudden  pene- 
trating "  Crack !  "  as  signal,  did  the  horsemen  ap- 
parently notice  the  efforts  at  pursuit;  but  now  inter- 
preting the  summons,  they  paused  and  waited.  Upon 
them  thudded  the  little  squad — buckskin-clad  scouts 
bearing  important  tidings. 

"How?"  greeted  old  Dan,  reining  short  as  he 
arrived,  and  reloading. 

"  How,  yourself?  "  retorted  one  of  the  riders. 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    285 

He  was  the  hazel-eyed  ranger, — the  forest  ranger 
who  had  been  met  beyond  the  slumgullion,  outside  the 
park — and  oh,  ever  so  long  ago  as  it  seemed.  The 
other  rider  was — he  was — the  black  man!  The  black 
man  who  with  the  ill-fated  red  man  had  occupied  the 
beaver  camp,  and  who  with  the  red  man  had  (accord- 
ing to  sign)  been  trailing  the  buffalo. 

The  ranger  was  drawn-faced,  weary-eyed,  and  alto- 
gether worn,  but  resolute.  He  carried  a  carbine  across 
his  saddle-horn;  in  holster  at  his  right  thigh,  a  six- 
shooter.  The  black  man  was  sullen,  behind  the  thick 
sable  whiskers  which  characterized  him.  His  arms 
were  fastened  by  a  rope  passing  across  his  back  from 
elbow  to  elbow.  And  now  it  could  be  seen  that 
his  rifle  had  been  transferred  to  the  ranger's  sad- 
dle,— for  balancing  the  empty  carbine  scabbard,  at 
the  opposite  side  was  slung  a  scabbard  with  weapon 
in  it. 

"  Traveling  early,  aren't  you  ? "  remarked  the 
ranger,  glancing  from  old  Dan  to  Chet,  and  from  Chet 
to  Phil,  and  evidently  noting  the  telltale  condition  of 
man  and  horse. 

"  So  air  you,"  retorted  old  Dan.  "  Do  you  want 
this  man's  pardner  ?  " 

"  I  shore  do.    Seen  him?  " 

"  Yes,  I've  seen  him.    But  you  don't  want  him." 

"Why?" 

"  Somebody  else  got  him." 

"Who?" 

"  Injuns." 

"What?     Frank?"     It  was  the  black  man  who 


286  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

spoke,  as  if  the  words  had  been  startled  out  of  him. 
"  Where'd  yot*  see  him?  " 

"Yonder,"  informed  old  Dan,  briefly.  "Beyond 
whar  you  an'  he  separated.  We  know  all  about  you. 
We  know  whar  you  been  an'  what  you  war  doin' ;  an' 
we  war  on  yore  trail,  stranger.  Wagh,  we  war !  But 
now  thar  air  a  hotter  trail." 

"You  say  Indians?  Did  they  have  him — or — ?" 
and  the  ranger  stopped  significantly. 

"  He'll  never  steal  another  pelt,"  answered  old  Dan. 

The  bound  poacher  muttered  through  his  beard, 
strongly  moved. 

"  Pshaw !  "  murmured  the  ranger.  "  It's  an  end  I 
don't  wish  for  any  man.  I'd  rather  have  turned  him 
over  to  the  law.  But  what's  that  about  Indians  ?  Have 
some  of  'em  gone  bad?  " 

"  Bad  'nough  to  lift  ha'r.  An'  what's  wuss,  thar  air 
more  white  folks  in  hyar — or  thar  war.  Seen  any 
sign?" 

"  Why — yes.  At  least,  Gus  the  sheep-herder  (we 
passed  his  camp  yesterday)  said  there  were  a  couple 
of  other  camps  across  the  next  ridge.  One  had  some 
girls  in  it." 

"Oh,  jiminy!"  breathed  Chet;  and  Phil's  heart 
sank. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  old  Dan.  "  That  air  about  ten 
mile  yon,  then."  He  gathered  his  lines.  The  boys 
settled  in  their  saddles,  again.  "  Hain't  seen  Injun 
sign,  have  ye?  " 

"  Knew  they  were  in  here  three  or  four  days  ago, 
traveling  through.  Yes,  and  we  saw  some  smokes  last 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    287 

evening.  Didn't  we?  "  and  the  ranger  appealed  to  the 
black  man.  The  black  man  nodded,  darkly.  "  Looked 
as  if  somebody  was  trying  to  signal — shore  did.  I 
didn't  have  time  to  answer.  Might  have  been  Indians, 
or  might  have  been  campers  or  surveyors." 

"Where?" 

"  Over  there." 

"  Wagh !  "  said  old  Dan.  He  whirled  his  drooping 
spotted  pony.  "  Come  "on,"  he  bade,  to  the  two  boys. 

"Wait,"  called  the  forest  ranger.  "What's  the 
matter  with  our  going,  too  ?  "  He  urged  after  them 
his  mount  and  the  mount  of  the  black  man.  "  If  there's 
any  work  ahead,  we're  in  it." 

"  Better  untie  me,  then,"  grumbled  the  black 
man. 

"  I'll  untie  you  soon  enough."  Now  they  all  rode  on 
together.  "  I  was  taking  this  man  out,"  explained  the 
ranger,  amidst  the  jolting  trot.  "  Been  trailing  him — 
off  and  on — for  a  month.  Caught  him — with  the 
goods  on — yesterday  noon.  Beaver  pelt — behind  his 
saddle ;  mighty  suspicious  deer  carcass — tied  fast ;  was 
after  that  old  buffalo  bull — too — or  I'm  much  mis- 
taken. Now  have  got  him — dead  to  rights.  Catching 
beaver — killing  deer — killed  buffalo  cow  this  spring. 
Was  hurrying — to  get  him  out — so  could  come  back  in 
and  corral  his  pard — and  the  plunder.  Guess  Injuns 
got — ahead  of  me." 

"  Reckon  they  did,"  agreed  old  Dan,  shortly.  "  An' 
if  they  don't  do  more  I'll  be  heap  glad." 

"  Told  Chief  Billy— when  I  saw  him— he'd  better 
not  trail — so  far — with  his  crowd.  Couldn't  watch 


288  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

him.  Big  country — to  be  ranger  and — game  warden 
both— in." 

"  That's  right,"  said  Chet  and  Phil. 

The  black  man  rode  without  opinion  voiced  or  mani- 
fested. 

The  route  led  down  the  valley,  retracing  the  course 
along  which  the  ranger  and  his  prisoner  had  been  hur- 
rying. The  dawn  brightened  in  sky  and  amidst  pine 
and  spruce  scattered  along  the  valley's  slopes,  and  over 
sage  and  brush  and  meadow  forming  the  bottom-land. 
In  a  golden  glow  so  strong  that  it  almost  cast  a  shadow 
— in  that  glorious  moment  just  as  the  sun  is  heralded 
by  a  fanfare  felt  rather  than  heard,  old  Dan  turned 
and  through  trembling  aspens  scaled  a  little  rise 
which  might  form  the  one  end  of  the  valley.  All  fol- 
lowed. 

At  the  top  the  sun  burst  upon  them.  A  widely 
rolling  sweep  of  brush  and  timber  hedged  by  snow- 
seamed  peak  and  mighty  rock-wall  lay  before.  It 
looked  familiar  to  Phil.  Was  that  not  Warrior  Peak, 
against  the  western  horizon? 

"  I  know — ! "  began  Chet,  evidently  thinking 
similar  thoughts ;  when  from  among  the  straggly  jack- 
pines  of  the  very  swell  upon  which  they  were  hesitating 
bolted  a  wild  figure  afoot,  to  stagger,  gasping  and  half 
blindly,  uttering  urgent  hails,  for  them. 

"Wagh!"  exclaimed  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Hyar's 
trouble." 

It  was  Gus  the  herder:  Gus,  with  torn  blouse  and 
overalls,  with  no  hat,  with  leg  crimsoned  as  by  a 
wound,  with  lungs  heaving  and  lips  dry,  with  face  wet 


MOUNTAIN    MEN    TO    THE    RESCUE    289 

by  perspiration  and  scratched  by  twigs,  and  with  scarce 
breath  or  strength  for  panting :  * 

"  Quick!  Injuns  dey  raid  my  camp  and  shoot  me, 
and  dose  odder  peoples  are  'bout  t'ree  miles  yonder. 
I  run  to  tell  dem.  Quick,  you !  " 


CHAPTER  XXI 

WHITE  MEN  AGAINST  RED 

QUIVERING  with  exhaustion,  Gus  clutched  at  a 
saddle-leather  and  steadied  himself.  Old  Dan's  queries 
came  short  and  quick. 

"When  did  it  happen  ?" 

"  Last  night.  My  dog,  and  my  hoss,  and  my  sheeps, 
dey  gone.  I  run " 

"How  many?" 

"  Four  or  five.    Dey " 

"  Where  are  those  other  people?  " 

"  'Bout  t'ree  miles  across,  over  dere.    I  run " 

"Who  are  they?" 

"  Two  camps  togedder :  that  cowboy  Buster  and  his 
party  and  a  party  with  girls  in  it.  I  run " 

"  Wagh !  Get  on  hyar."  And  old  Dan  was  off  his 
spotted  pony.  Chet  and  Phil  protested  simultaneously 
with: 

"  No.    Give  him  my  horse.    I'll  ride  bareback." 

But  old  Dan  stayed  not.  He  was  swiftly  fitting  a 
rope  loop  about  the  jaw  of  Betty  the  mule  (who  stood 
patiently),  and  by  the  time  that  Gus  had  climbed  pain- 
fully into  the  saddle  of  the  spotted  pony — even  before 
the  boys  were  fairly  alive  to  the  change — the  old 
trapper  had  vaulted  upon  her. 

"  Wagh !  "  he  uttered,  clamping  her  with  his  buck- 

290 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         291 

skin  legs.  "  I  rode  Injun  'fore  any  o'  you  war  born. 
Come !  "  And  clapping  Betty  with  his  moccasined 
heels,  forth  to  the  lead  he  sprang. 

Down  from  the  billowy  swell  they  all  hastened  after, 
at  a  trot.  Grizzly  Dan  sat  well  his  naked  mule,  guid- 
ing her  with  the  rope  loop  which  encircling  her  lower 
jaw  supplied  him  with  a  single  rein;  and  Betty  acted 
as  if  trained  to  the  emergency.  The  black  man,  elbows 
still  tied  behind  his  back,  rode  stolidly.  And  last,  save 
for  Cotton-tail  and  Bonita,  upon  the  back  of  the 
spotted  pony  Gus  sat  lax  and  uncertain,  but  holding 
hard,  with  occasional  mutter  as  his  wounded  leg 
twinged,  or  as  he  thought  upon  Kitty,  horse,  and 
sheep. 

"  Thar's  smoke,"  called  back  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Thar 
air  two  smokes — one  camp,  one  signal ;  one  white,  one 
Injun.  Come  on." 

"  Come  on !  "  echoed  Chet. 

And  they  pushed  their  flagging  mounts. 

The  sun  was  well  up,  flooding  with  golden  beams 
the  vast  rolling  expanse  of  timber-land,  park-land,  and 
crag-land  into  which  they  were  plunging.  Before,  over 
the  tree  line  at  a  mile  or  more  distance,  up-wafted  the 
bluish  haze  of  smoke ;  and  to  the  right,  not  more  than 
a  mile,  as  from  a  ridge  arose  a  column,  heavy  and 
substantial,  and  as  distinct  as  a  water-spout. 

"Coup  smoke,  again?"  asked  Phil,  as  he  urged 
Pepper  to  the  spotted  pony's  tail. 

"  No,  boy.  Jest  a  sort  of  assembly  smoke,  I  reckon. 
But  it  means  hostiles." 

Old  Dan  seemed  to  indicate,  by  his  persistent  pace, 


292  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

that  if  they  would  reach  the  camp  they  must  hurry. 
The  route  through  an  uneven  country  necessitated 
numerous  little  detours,  to  pick  the  easier  way;  but 
Phil  well  knew  that  the  easier  way  was  the  quicker 
way.  Nevertheless,  the  ride  seemed  interminable.  At 
each  open  place  and  from  each  vantage  point  he  peered 
expectantly,  only  to  be  disappointed ;  and  it  was  at  last 
a  glad  surprise  when  on  a  sudden  they  rounded  at  a 
trot  a  timber  shoulder,  to  witness  almost  within  hail 
before  and  slightly  below,  beside  a  few  aspens  and  a 
little  stream,  the  tented  camp  and  the  moving  figures 
of  men  and  girls. 

"  There  they  are ! "  exclaimed  thankfully  he  and 
Chet  together.  And  the  hard-riding  squad  raced  gal- 
lantly down. 

The  campers  had  seen  them  coming,  and  were 
curiously  eying.  Breakfast  was  just  over.  Cherry 
and  Molly  appeared  to  be  washing  the  dishes,  but  they 
stopped  and  stood  and  waved  welcome.  Buster  was 
not  in  sight.  However,  his  three  hunters  were  there, 
with  their  tents;  and  the  Professor  could  be  dis- 
tinguished— and  Pete's  big  hat. 

"  Hello,"  greeted  the  girls,  frankly  glad,  to  the  two 
boys.  "  We  thought  you  were  away  off,  by  this 
time." 

"  Anything  the  matter  ?  "  queried  the  Professor, 
blandly. 

"  Bear  must  be  after  them,"  remarked  one  of  the 
Buster  party,  lightly  and  lazily. 

Old  Dan  paid  no  attention  to  comment.  "  Got  to 
get  out  o'  hyar,"  he  ordered  abruptly,  almost  ere  he 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED 

had  drawn  rein.  "  Thar  air  hostiles  'round  an'  this  air 
no  place." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  old  man !  "  demanded,  amidst 
the  quick  astonishment,  the  elder  of  the  three  city 
hunters. 

"  I  mean  yore  ha'r  air  in  danger ;  an*  the  ha'r  of 
every  one  of  us,  if  we  stay  hyar.  Get  out,  pronto. 
Hurry,  now,"  and  old  Dan  was  off  his  mule. 

"  Oh,  Phil !  "  appealed  Cherry,  wide-eyed,  gazing 
upon  him.  "Is  it  so?  " 

"Yes.     SeeGus?" 

"  Nonsense !  "  attempted  the  spokesman  of  Buster's 
party.  "  You  meant —  "  but  he,  also,  noted  Gus's  ex- 
haustion and  wound  and  paused  to  listen  to  what  Gus 
was  saying. 

"  Yes ;  and  I  had  no  gun.  And  dey  killed  my  dog, 
and  my  sheeps,  and  shooted  me  in  my  leg,  and  took 
my  hoss.  It  was  last  night.  I  run  to  tell  you  peoples ; 
I  run  all  night,  and  den  I  met  up  with  dis  party." 

"  Oh,  how  romantic !  "  gasped  Molly,  scarcely  know- 
ing what  she  said,  and  clinging  to  Cherry, — both  white- 
faced.  But  they  were  not  the  only  white-faced  mem- 
bers of  the  camp. 

"  I'll  go  tell  that  Buster  an'  help  him  fetch  in  the 
hawsses,"  said  Pete,  acting  at  once ;  and  away  he  ran. 

"  Found  my  pardner  scalped,  too,  they  say,"  in- 
formed the  black  man,  morosely,  to  the  city  hunters. 

Now  convinced,  they  scrambled  to  their  feet.  The 
words,  coupled  with  the  entrance  of  this  party  led  by 
an  old  man  on  a  naked  mule  and  conveying  a  wounded 
refugee,  began  to  pierce  the  first  natural  doubt. 


294  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  I  declare !  "  uttered  the  Professor,  helplessly. 

"  What  do  you  want  us  to  do,  uncle  ?  "  invited  the 
spokesman  of  Buster's  three,  poised  ready  for  any 
answer.  They  were  all  right,  those  visitors,  in  this 
crisis.  "  Can't  we  fight  'em  off?  " 

"  Not  hyar."  Grizzly  Dan,  leaning  his  rifle  against 
a  limb,  was  bustling  to  collect  the  scattered  baggage. 
The  boys  and  the  girls  helped,  and  the  ranger  fell  to. 
"  Not  hyar.  Bad  place  to  fort;  it  air  over-looked  by 
too  much  high  ground,  an'  cover  air  pore.  We  must 
get  out,  quick." 

"All  right.  Where  to?"  And  they,  likewise, 
joined  the  workers.  Now  the  Professor,  finally  rally- 
ing from  his  bewilderment,  gathered,  in  haphazard 
fashion,  various  odds  and  ends. 

"  Don't  I  get  untied  an'  off  this  hoss  ?  "  complained 
the  black  man. 

"  Might  as  well  sit  where  you  are/'  returned  the 
ranger. 

"  Whar  to  ?  "  repeated  Grizzly  Dan,  answering  the 
other  question.  "  Fur  as  they'll  let  us ;  can't  tell  how 
fur  that  may  be.  We've  these  two  gals  an'  a  wounded 
man  to  look  after." 

"  Whew !  Wish  we  had  more  cartridges !  "  said  a 
second  one  of  the  Eastern  hunters. 

There  was  trampling  of  hoofs,  and  in  across  the 
meadow  galloped  the  horse  herd  of  the  two  camps, 
Pete  and  Buster  driving  them  on.  Buster  was  pale 
and  excited,  but  wasted  no  words. 

"  Now,  wouldn't  this  beat  yuh !  "  he  scolded,  as  he 
and  Pete  rapidly  threw  on  the  pack  saddles  and  ad- 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         295 

justed  them.  "  Ought  to  have  saved  some  o'  that  tin 
can  ammunition." 

"  Why?    You  short?  "  asked  the  ranger. 

"  Short !  "  snorted  Buster.  "  Those  fellows  shot  off 
about  ten  thousand  shells,  so's  not  to  pack  'em  home 
again !  Now  they've  got  as  much  as  five  apiece,  they've 
jest  discovered." 

Pack  saddles  were  on;  so  were  the  other  saddles. 

"  Leave  anything  you  want  to,  of  ours,"  suggested 
the  stout  hunter,  "  if  there  isn't  time  or  if  we're  to 
travel  light." 

"  'Twon't  be  necessary.  We're  about  cleaned  out, 
anyhow.  These  other  folks  ain't  got  much,"  grunted 
Buster,  as  with  Pete  and  the  ranger  he  built  a  pack 
while  old  Dan  and  the  boys  built  another. 

"What's  that?"  questioned  old  Dan,  suddenly,  of 
the  Professor,  who  was  laboriously  tying  to  his  saddle 
a  lumpy  sack,  for  which  he  seemed  scarcely  to  have 
space. 

"  These  are  various  specimens,  mainly  mineral  and 
geological,"  answered  the  Professor,  mildly.  "  I  be- 
lieve if  I  can  fasten  them  securely  they  will  ride  all 
right ;  don't  you  ?  " 

"Wagh!"  exploded  old  Dan.  "Rocks,  you  say? 
Better  leave  sech  useless  plunder,  anyhow." 

Obediently  the  Professor  detached  the  heavy  sack — 
but  he  opened  it  and  selected  several  of  the  specimens 
apparently  dear  to  him,  for  thrusting  into  his  already 
bulging  pockets ! 

Now  old  Dan  was  again  upon  the  bare  back  of  Betty 
the  mule,  and  was  waiting  impatiently  for  the  march 


296  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

to  form.  There  was  mounting  by  all ;  and  saying  not  a 
word,  but  seeing  that  the  company  were  ready,  out  he 
rode — in  the  open  away  from  the  few  aspens,  to  pause 
a  moment  and  survey  around  about. 

"  'Nother  smoke  yonder,"  he  muttered.  And  he 
said,  to  the  serious  faces  clustered  behind  him :  "  Pack 
animiles,  gals,  wounded  man,  an'  that  'ere  prisoner  in 
the  center;  rest  o'  yuh  flankin'  an'  closin'  the  rear. 
Ought  to  keep  bunched.  We'll  get  through,  but  may 
have  to  stop  a  bit  an'  fort.  Fust  thing  air  to  strike 
high  ground.  Wagh!  It  air." 

He  led  off,  straight  across  the  meadowy  little  flat; 
and  at  an  amble  the  company  fell  in :  Phil  and  Chet 
on  right  and  left,  as  next  flankers ;  then  the  Professor 
(who  had  been  awarded  the  black  man's  gun)  and  the 
ranger;  then  two  of  the  city  hunters;  then,  at  the 
rear,  in  a  line,  Buster  and  the  third  hunter  and  Pete. 
Thus  the  three  pack  animals  and  Cotton-tail  (who 
traveled  free),  and  Cherry  and  Molly,  Gus  and  the 
black  man  poacher,  were  surrounded  by  an  armed 
cordon. 

"  Why  didn't  you  folks  go  on  out,  after  we  told  you 
to  ?  "  asked  Chet,  rather  irritably,  of  the  girls.  "  We 
told  you  thar  war  likely  to  be  trouble." 

"  Fiddlesticks !  "  retorted  Cherry,  with  surprising 
smartness.  "  You  didn't  tell  us  anything;  it  was  Griz- 
zly Dan.  I  suppose  we  ought  to  have  minded  him; 
but  you're  just  boys  dressed  up,  and  I  think  we  know 
as  much  as  you  do.  Anyway,  papa  wanted  to  stay  and 
look  for  more  stones;  and  then  we  met  those  other 
campers ;  and  so  we  all  stayed  in  together." 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED 

"  And  it  all  was  very  romantic,  until  you  came  and 
interrupted,"  sighed  Molly. 

"  We  couldn't  help  interrupting.  We  didn't  bring 
the  Indians,"  reminded  Phil.  "  And  we've  been  riding 
all  night  and  most  of  this  morning  to  rescue  you. 
That's  a  great  way  to  talk — about  being  *  interrupted ! ' 
Wagh ! " 

"Wagh!"  agreed  Chet  "Such  talk  don't  shine 
with  this  chile.  We're  savin'  yore  h'ar,  gal." 

"  Fiddlesticks !  "  again  retorted  Cherry.  "  We  don't 
have  to  save  our  hair,  yet.  And  I  don't  believe  these 
Indians  are  so  bad.  They  were  nice  to  us,  and  the  boys 
were  very  polite,  and  real  handsome." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  sighed  Molly.  "  And  romantic, 
too." 

The  company  were  ascending  the  southern  flank  of 
the  shallow  valley  wherein  had  been  pitched  the  com- 
bined camps.  At  the  top  stretched  before  an  undulat- 
ing plateau,  open  and  sagy,  bounded  at  the  farther  side 
by  a  long  wall  of  rim-rock  red  in  the  sunshine.  Old 
Dan  briefly  turned  his  head,  to  enjoin,  with  crisp  warn- 
ing: 

"  Injuns  yonder.  I  feared  it.  Close  up  an'  do  as 
I  say."  And  he  added :  "  Hyar  come  a  couple.  We'll 
keep  on  a  bit  an'  see  what  air  wanted." 

Mounted  figures  were  visible  against  the  sky,  on  the 
crest  of  the  rim-rock;  and  searching,  the  boys  could 
descry  two  figures  making  way  at  a  gallop  through 
the  brush,  as  if  to  intercept  the  company. 

Old  Dan  slightly  changed  the  course,  almost  to 
parallel  the  rim-rock,  and  continued  as  if  not  noticing; 


298  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

until,  as  the  mounted  figures  arrived  within  two  hun- 
dred yards,  he  threw  up  a  hand  as  token  for  them  to 
halt.  They  did  so. 

"  You  two  boys  come  with  me ;  rest  o'  you  watch 
sharp,  an'  don't  be  scared,"  bade  old  Dan. 

With  Chet  and  Phil  he  rode  forward — and  he  looked 
more  Indian  than  the  two  Indians  themselves,  for  they 
were  equipped  with  saddle  and  bridle,  and  he  sat  bare- 
back, with  only  the  rope  thong.  But  Sally  his  faith- 
ful and  deadly  rifle  lay  now  shifted  to  the  hollow  of  his 
left  arm,  convenient  to  his  shoulder. 

"  Whilst  I  talk,  keep  yore  eyes  on  me,  an*  on  these 
Injuns,  an'  on  those  other  Injuns;  an'  at  the  fust  sign 
from  me  or  the  fust  suspicious  movement  'mongst  any 
of  'em,  hyar  or  thar,  hold  with  yore  guns  quick  as  light- 
nin'  an'  don't  let  these  two  fellows  stir  an  eyelash," 
were  Dan's  injunctions. 

"All  right,"  answered  Phil;  and  Chet,  assenting 
with  his  characteristic  short  nod  when  undertaking 
important  work,  added : 

"  One  of  them's  Charley  Pow-wow !  Wonder  if  he's 
gone  bad." 

With  old  Dan  slightly  in  the  advance,  between  them, 
they  rode'at  a  trot,  then  at  a  walk;  and  the  two  Indians 
approached  at  a  trot,  then  at  a  walk.  Yes;  one  was 
Charley  Pow-wow,  in  his  wonted  overalls  and  shirt  and 
hat  and  moccasins.  The  other  was  a  youth  of  about 
the  same  age,  but  wearing  only  moccasins  and  leggins, 
naked  from  the  waist  up,  painted  with  zebra  stripes 
of  red  and  yellow  diagonally  laid  from  shoulder  to 
waist,  while  one  half  the  face  was  of  the  red,  the 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         299 

other  of  the  yellow.  His  white  horse  also  was  daubed 
with  the  paint.  Altogether  he  was  a  fearsome  ob- 
ject. Both  Indians  carried  rifles  and  wore  full  cart- 
ridge belts. 

When  within  about  twenty  feet  old  Dan  halted  and 
again  threw  up  his  hand;  the  two  Indians  halted.  Old 
Dan  spoke  a  sentence  in  Ute;  but  Charley  replied  in 
English. 

"  My  people  say  that  you  must  go  the  other  side  of 
the  mountain,"  he  announced,  without  preamble.  "  All 
this  shall  be  Indian  country  like  it  used  to  be.  We 
never  gave  it  up ;  it  has  been  stolen  from  us.  Now  we 
have  come  back  in  to  stay." 

"  You  tell  yore  chiefs  that  we  air  on  the  trail  out  an' 
we  do  not  want  to  be  stopped,"  answered  old  Dan. 

The  painted  Indian  broke  in  with  a  long  and  furious 
speech,  punctuated  at  the  end  by  a  sweeping  gesture. 
The  boys  could  not  understand  a  word  of  it,  but  they 
understood  the  gesture  which  spelled  destruction  and 
defiance.  Old  Dan,  swaying  in  his  seat  as  the  guttural 
syllables  rolled  from  his  tongue,  replied  in  the  same 
language.  And  Charley  then  resumed: 

"  No.  It  is  best  for  you  to  turn  about  and  go  as 
fast  as  you  can  to  the  other  side  of  the  mountain.  You 
cannot  pass  this  way.  The  figure  on  the  mountain 
has  spoken  to  our  old  men  and  has  said  that  this  side 
shall  be  the  hunting  grounds  of  the  Utes  again.  No 
white  persons  shall  be  allowed.  There  is  room  for 
the  white  people  somewhere  else.  The  Indians  have 
very  little  room,  and  no  place  to  hunt.  My  people 
have  waited  a  long  while  for  the  mountain  spirit  to 


300  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

wake  up  and  speak  to  them.  But  he  has  done  so. 
You  had  better  go  quick.  I  mean  it." 

"  Bah !  "  grunted  Chet.  "  What's  the  matter  with 
yuh,  Charley!  You're  loco." 

Charley  gave  no  indication  that  he  heard — or  even 
that  he  noticed  these  two  boys  with  whom  he  had 
ridden  and  worked  and  even  slept 

"  You  gave  me  that  medicine  bag,  remember,"  re- 
minded Phil,  calling  up  an  incident  of  his  Bar  B  days. 
"  I've  got  it  yet." 

"Wagh!"  reproved  old  Dan.  "I'm  doin'  the 
talkin'."  And  he  addressed  the  Indians  again : 

"  You  say  to  go  to  the  other  side  o'  the  mountain. 
Then  why  have  you  killed  that  red-headed  man,  over 
thar  ?  An'  why  have  you  raided  that  sheep  camp,  yon- 
der?" 

"  I  do  not  know  about  any  red-headed  man,"  replied 
Charley,  calmly.  "  And  we  do  not  want  any  sheep,  or 
anything  white,  on  this  side.  The  mountain  is  angry, 
say  our  medicine  men.  This  is  to  be  red  country,  not 
white.  That  is  why  it  was  made.  We  do  no  harm 
here.  We  can  hunt  and  live  as  we  used  to  live,  and  not 
bother  anybody." 

"  The  soldiers  will  come  in  an'  drive  you  out.  You 
tell  yore  chiefs  that  the  quicker  you  get  back  to  the 
reservation,  the  better.  Yore  medicine  men  talk  fool 
talk.  Thar  air  no  red  country  any  more,  an'  never  will 
be,  'cept  on  the  reservation.  I'm  an  old  man,  old  as 
any  of  'em,  an'  I  know." 

"  If  it  is  fool  talk,  we  will  see,"  answered  Charley, 
soberly.  "  Nobody  is  using  this  country ;  we  would 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         301 

like  to  use  it ;  the  soldiers  will  be  a  long  time  driving  us 
out,  it  is  so  wild  and  so  full  of  game  and  wood  and 
water.  We  might  as  well  die  here,  fighting,  as  die  by 
sickness  and  poorness  and  laziness,  on  a  reservation 
that  we  did  not  choose.  You  must  turn  back;  you 
must  turn  back  quick,  for  the  other  side  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  we  will  let  you  go ;  but  if  you  keep  on,  you 
will  get  hurt,  for  some  of  the  young  men  are  anxious 
to  please  the  mountain  and  fight  and  become  warriors." 

Charley  spoke  so  seriously  and  so  determinedly — the 
red  spirit  using  the  white  tongue,  as  if  better  to  be  un- 
derstood— that  Phil  was  deeply  impressed  with  the 
sense  of  danger.  This  was  real;  this  was  no  joke;  the 
Utes  actually  meant  it,  and  no  "  Bah !  "  by  Chet  or  by 
himself  could  break  the  spell.  He  held  himself  tense 
and  anxious,  waiting  for  Grizzly  Dan's  reply.  The  old 
man  spoke  strongly: 

"  Wagh !  Then  the  young  men  will  be  killed  an'  the 
old  men  will  die  off,  an'  thar'll  be  no  Ute  nation.  You 
tell  yore  chiefs  we  air  goin'  out  this  way  an'  we  will  not 
turn  back.  Our  hosses  air  tired;  the  other  trail  air 
too  long.  This  air  shorter,  an'  so  we  take  it,  an'  thar 
air  not  warriors  enough  in  the  Ute  nation  to  stop  us. 
No,  thar  ain't.  We  air  plenty  men  an'  have  plenty 
guns  an'  good  shots;  an'  if  we  air  interfered  with  we 
will  kill  a  heap  o'  young  men  an'  old  men  too.  An' 
after  us  will  come  in  the  soldiers;  an'  the  Ute  nation 
will  be  wiped  out.  Wagh!  I  have  spoken." 

Charley  reined  back  his  pony,  as  if  to  turn;  but  his 
companion,  the  painted  Indian,  burst  forth  again  into 
violent,  guttural  declamation;  at  the  close,  his  voice 


302  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

rising,  he  urged  his  pony  forward  a  step,  and  shaking 
high  his  rifle,  as  if  in  invocation,  at  Warrior  Peak,  with 
his  other  arm  he  extended  rigid,  quivering,  defiant 
clenched  hand  at  the  group  before  him.  So  fierce  was 
his  harangue  and  sudden  attitude,  that  the  boys'  guns 
leaped  of  their  own  accord,  apparently,  half  to  the 
shoulder.  But  old  Dan,  with  jerk  of  his  head,  mo- 
tioned them  down  again. 

"Bah!"  he  ejaculated,  himself.  "  Gwan  back. 
Wagh!  Fool  talk,"  and  with  another  contemptuous 
"  Bah !  "  like  a  spit  he  backed  his  pony,  token  that  the 
conference  was  ended. 

"  We  speak  truth,  just  the  same,"  insisted  Charley, 
earnestly;  and  whirling  their  ponies  he  and  his  angry 
painted  comrade  went  galloping  for  the  other  Indians 
upon  the  rim-rock  crest.  As  they  galloped  the  painted 
youth  again  flourished  high  his  rifle,  while  a  shrill 
whoop  drifted  back  from  him. 

Now  old  Dan  turned  his  mule ;  with  wave  of  his  arm 
he  motioned  to  the  main  party,  awaiting  so  anxiously, 
to  start  on.  With  the  two  boys  he  shaped  his  course  to 
join  the  party  as  they  marched. 

"  That  paint  was  some  angry,"  commented  Chet, 
coolly. 

"What  did  he  say?"  queried  Phil,  endeavoring  to 
keep  as  cool  and  not  betray  his  throbbing  pulses. 

"  Wasted  a  heap  o'  breath,"  grunted  old  Dan.  "  He 
did.  What'd  he  say?  War  tryin'  to  tell  me,  an  old 
mountain  man,  wagh,  what  he'd  do  to  me  if  I  didn't 
mind  orders!  Him,  a  boy  who  never's  seen  a  scalp  or 
struck  a  coup,  like  as  not,  thinkin*  to  scare  me,  who's 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         303 

lived  when  Injun  war  Injun  an'  who's  fout  more 
scrimmages  than  he's  shot  pee-rairie  dwags.  He  won't 
'mount  to  much.  That  'ere  white-bred  Injun,  son  o' 
the  chief,  talked  more  sense.  But  the  sum  an'  sub- 
stance air  this :  •  Those  thar  Utes  think  now  they've 
got  a  message  from  that  figger  on  Warrior  Peak  tellin' 
'em  this  park  can  be  theirs.  O'  course,  it  air  some 
dream  o'  some  medicine  man,  or  some  yarn  by  the  old 
men  who  want  to  make  trouble  an'  work  up  the  young 
men ;  but  it  air  enough.  All  this  hyar  park  on  this  side 
o'  the  peak  air  to  be  Ute  country  agin,  to  live  in  an* 
hunt  in,  an'  white  people  air  not  to  be  allowed.  Wall, 
don't  blame  the  Injuns  for  wantin'  it.  They  see  it 
ain't  being  used  by  settlers ;  an*  it  air  full  o'  game  an* 
wood  an'  water.  But  the  government  never'll  let  'em 
stay." 

"  We  go  on,  do  we?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Shore  we  do/'  growled  the  belligerent  Chet. 

"  We  do,"  replied  old  Dan.  "  Got  to.  Mustn't  let' 
those  Injuns  think  we're  afraid  o'  them.  Never  let  any 
Injuns  think  you  air  'fraid  o'  them.  Only  talk  they 
respect  air  big  talk.  Besides,  these  hyar  bosses  of  ourn 
never'd  get  acrost  the  mountain  without  a  long  rest — 
an'  if  we  stopped  much  we'd  be  in  trouble.  Further 
back  toward  the  mountain  we  go,  wuss  we'd  be  stuck. 
Best  chance  air  to  go  on  out  by  shortest  way." 

That  was  true,  especially  about  the  horses ;  for  Pep- 
per and  Medicine  Eye  and  the  spotted  pony  were  about 
done  for,  after  their  incessant  travel  of  practically  a 
day  and  a  night ;  yes,  and  more,  for  now  was  it  after- 
noon of  the  second  day!  Phil  must  hold  Pepper  up, 


304  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

by  the  bit,  and  lift  him  with  heel  and  cluck  as  well,  as 
now  they  jogged  for  the  party;  and  Chet  was  working 
constantly  with  the  faltering  Medicine  Eye.  Betty  the 
mule  was  of  course  fresher ;  but  the  tough  little  spotted 
pony  labored  on  with  drooping  head,  as  exhausted  as 
his  rider  Gus. 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  demanded  several  voices,  as  the  three 
scouts  rejoined  the  march. 

"  We  go  on,  to  camp,"  informed  Grizzly  Dan.  "  It 
airn't  fur.  Got  to  rest  these  hosses." 

"But  weren't  those  Indians  threatening?'5  de- 
manded the  spokesman  of  the  city  hunters. 

"  Some.     Heap  talk,"  grunted  old  Dan. 

"  What  did  they  say,  Phil  ?  "  asked  Cherry,  appeal- 
ingly. 

"  One  of  them  was  Charley  Pow-wow.  They  say 
this  country  in  the  park  is  theirs,  and  they  want  us  to 
turn  around  and  go  the  other  side  of  that  mountain. 
But  we  can't;  and  so  Grizzly  Dan  told  them  we'd  go 
on  out  by  this  trail." 

"Didn't  they  like  that?" 

"  No.    Can't  help  it,  though." 

*  They  seem  to  be  forming  in  council,  over  there  on 
the  cliff,"  called  one  of  the  Buster  hunters.  "  Suppose 
we  can  fight  'em  off  if  they  try  to  make  trouble?  " 

"  They'll  not  make  trouble  yet ;  got  to  hold  a  talk 
fust,"  answered  old  Dan.  "  Ain't  afraid  of  'em  in 
open  country.  Young  men  mought  like  to  charge  us, 
but  old  men  know  better." 

"  Suppose  they'd  rather  surprise  us  in  a  camp." 

"  Humph!  "  grunted  Dan.     "  Surprises  don't  shine 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         305 

with  this  chile.  Thar  air  a  campin'-place  'bout  a  mile 
ahead  whar  he's  fout  Injuns  afore,  an'  the  surprise 
war  on  the  outside  'stead  o'  the  inside.  We'll  jest 
go  thar,  an'  stop  a  bit." 

"  Good !  "  applauded  the  city  man.  "  We're  back 
of  you." 

"  Don't  I  get  untied,  so  I  can  defend  myself  ? " 
queried  the  black  man. 

"  Soon  enough.  What's  your  hurry?  "  retorted  the 
ranger.  "  Who'd  have  thought  these  Utes  would  take 
to  ghost-dancing  again!"  he  addressed  generally. 

"  Warrior  Peak  told  'em  to,"  explained  Chet. 

"  How  terribly  romantic !  "  sighed  Molly. 

"  That  old  peak  yon  ?  What'dituse?  Telephone?" 
asked  Pete. 

"  Wouldn't  that  kill  yuh !  "  grumbled  Buster. 

"  Most  interesting !  "  remarked  the  Professor.  "  I'd 
like  to  know  more  of  such  a  phenomenon.  And  one  of 
those  Indians  looked  to  be  educated,  too." 

"  Did  it  tell  'em  to  kill  my  dog  and  my  sheeps  and 
'most  kill  me  ?  "  complained  Gus. 

"  Wall,  you're  liable  to  know  considerable  more  o' 
Injun  phenomenon,  'fore  we're  out  o'  hyar,"  answered 
Grizzly  Dan,  to  the  Professor. 

"  Guess  they  aren't  afraid  of  Old  Four-Toes,  any 
more,"  hazarded  Phil.  "  Forgot  to  ask  'em." 

"  Is  that  the  big  bear?  "  inquired  one  of  the  Buster 
hunters.  "  Did  you  get  him  ?  " 

"  No.     We  weren't  after  him." 

"  We  were  after  him,  but  we  didn't  get  him," 
announced  the  man,  cheerfully. 


306  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Wagh !  His  medicine  war  too  strong,"  grunted 
Grizzly  Dan. 

"  And  we're  mighty  glad  you  didn't,  too !  "  informed 
Chet,  flatly. 

1  Those  Injuns  shore  are  meditatin'  mischief,"  com- 
mented the  black  man,  glumly.  "  An'  here  I  be  tied 
like  a  hawg !  " 

'  You'll  get  untied  at  proper  time,"  instructed  the 
ranger.  "  Just  at  present  we  can  use  your  gun  better 
than  we  can  use  you.  See  ?  " 

Glancing  aside,  apprehensively,  the  boys  could  note 
that  the  council  upon  the  rim-rock  edge  was  over,  and 
that  the  Indians  had  divided  into  two  parties.  One 
followed  along  the  rim-rock,  where  they  made  sil- 
houettes against  the  sky;  the  other  descended  to  the 
plateau  and  rode  in  a  detour  as  if  to  cross  the  trail, 
before. 

"  Wagh !  "  commented  old  Dan,  keenly  observant. 
"  Let  'em  meditate,  an*  do  their  ridin'.  Hyar's  camp." 

He  turned  sharply  to  the  left,  and  at  best  pace  of 
toiling,  sluggish  trot  led  for  a  clump  of  cedars  now 
distant  about  three  hundred  yards.  Reaching  the  spot, 
he  alertly  dismounted  from  his  mule. 

"  Off  packs,  now,  an'  tie  yore  critters,"  he  bade, 
starting  right  in  at  the  work.  "  Ought  to  be  a  spring  in 
thar,  an*  some  grass,  an'  remains  of  a  fort  corral. 
Anyhow,  can't  go  further  till  to-morrow.  Mustn't  get 
down  on  the  low  ground  for  night." 

All  acted.  The  camp  seemed  to  be  splendidly  chosen. 
The  cedars,  mingled  among  a  few  scrubby  pines,  oc- 
cupied a  point  behind  which  the  gravelly  ground  fell 


WHITE    MEN    AGAINST    RED         307 

away  in  a  long  open  slope,  to  a  valley  below ;  so  that 
up  and  down,  or  to  right  and  to  left,  was  given  a  view. 
Before  was  the  level  plateau.  Attack  from  any  direc- 
tion would  be  difficult. 

Chet,  penetrating  amidst  the  clump,  called  back  in- 
stantly. 

"  Somebody's  forted  here,  once  before.  Regular 
breastwork  of  timber  and  brush.  Grass,  too!  And 
there's  some  water — but  not  very  much." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE   DUEL   OF   THE   TWO    CHIEFS 

"  DON'T  I  get  untied  ?  "  again  voiced  the  black  man 
poacher,  plaintively. 

"  Reckon  you  do,"  responded  the  forest  ranger,  now 
pausing  to  slip  the  knots  and  release  his  elbows. 
"  But  if  you  want  to  keep  your  scalp  I'd  advise  you  to 
stay  in  pretty  close.  You  wouldn't  last  long  outside." 

"  I  watch  him,"  volunteered  Gus,  weakly,  sitting 
with  gun  across  knee. 

"  Am  I  a  prisoner,  then  ?  "  queried  the  black  man. 
"  All  right.  Then  I  don't  work,"  and  he  also  seated 
himself,  with  glum,  determined  mien,  and  rubbed  his 
arms. 

"  A-a-ah,  look  at  that,  will  yuh !  "  snorted  Buster, 
incensed. 

But  the  others  let  the  black  man  be,  for  more  im- 
portant matters  pressed. 

"  You  two  boys  post  yourselves  one  at  either  side  o' 
this  hyar  timber  an'  watch  Injuns,"  directed  old  Dan. 
"  You  two  guides  be  hos  guard ;  take  another  man  an' 
water  the  critters  an'  stake  'em  out  to  grass  an'  be 
ready  to  round  'em  up  quick  in  case  it  air  needed. 
Other  men  an'  I'll  chop  what  timber  air  needed  for 
fortin'  an'  fire.  Wagh !  It  air  pot  time.  This  chile 
air  wolfish." 

306 


THE    DUEL    OF    Til  1C    TWO    CHIEFS    309 

Suddenly  Phil  was  keenly  conscious  that  he  was 
"wolfish,"  himself.  He  and  diet  and  old  Dan  had 
been  riding  hard  and  under  a  great  strain  of  muscle 
and  mind  since  ten  o'clock  the  night  before;  yes,  almost 
continuously  since  the  previous  morning ;  and  they  had 
had  little  to  eat  and  no  sleep,  and  now  it  was  late  after- 
noon of  the  second  day! 

But  in  response  to  Grizzly  Dan's  orders  came  dis- 
maying reports.  Buster  announced,  instantly,  from 
where  he  had  penetrated  in  search  of  the  spring :  "  Yu 
got  to  go  mighty  slow  with  this  water.  By  time 
hawsses  are  through  with  it  there  won't  be  any  left!  " 
And  Pete  declared :  "  Say,  if  you  people  didn't  fetch 
any  grub  to  speak  of  you'd  better  snub  your  appetites 
short,  'cause  our  camp  was  about  plumb  out.  We  were 
ready  to  go  home." 

In  the  midst  of  the  expostulations  which  greeted  the 
news  the  boys  trudged  away,  to  post  themselves  at 
right  and  left  of  the  little  brush-and-timber  area. 

The  Indians  were  acting  strangely.  Settling  down 
to  the  companionship  of  his  veteran  carbine  (and  of  his 
hunger)  Phil  could  see  that  the  band  of  Indians  which 
had  ridden  following  along  the  edge  of  the  rim-rock 
were  continuing  on  and  were  almost  out  of  sight! 
They  had  left  the  rim-rock  wall  and  had  entered  upon 
a  long  stretch  of  country  beyond ;  this  they  were  cross- 
ing, in  a  file  not  unlike  a  file  of  ants,  and  even  while  he 
watched  the  head  of  the  column  disappeared  over  a 
partially  wooded  shoulder. 

The  other  band,  which  had  ridden  diagonally  out 
into  the  plateau,  as  if  to  cut  off  the  march  of  the  whites, 


310  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

had  now  halted,  and  a  squad  had  turned  back,  at  a 
gallop.  On  they  came,  a  dozen,  riding  hard,  blankets 
flapping,  braids  flying,  to  flourish  derisive  weapons  op- 
posite the  camp  and  shake  insulting  fists,  while  the 
chorus  of  their  shrill  jeers  echoed  from  the  rim-rock 
wall  behind  them.  As  this  squad  turned,  the  other 
squad  started  upon  a  similar  spurt,  so  that,  about  op- 
posite the  camp,  the  two  squads  passed — only,  at  the 
further  end  of  their  course,  to  turn,  each,  and  repeat 
the  performance.  Thus  they  shuttled  back  and  forth, 
seemingly  taking  great  enjoyment  in  such  wasteful 
activity.  They  were  a  good  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
but  Phil  was  confident  that  with  his  trusty  little  car- 
bine he  could  reach  them.  However,  he  had  no  in- 
structions to  shoot;  no  one  was  shooting;  and.  anyway, 
the  Indians  were  doing  no  harm.  So  as  they  main- 
tained their  child's  play  he  began  to  give  them  only 
casual  attention,  while  he  bestowed  eyes  and  ears  upon 
the  country  round  about,  in  case  this  diversion  in  front 
masked  an  attack  from  elsewhere. 

But  the  slope  behind  him,  leading  down  into  the 
lower  country,  betrayed  no  movement  of  sneaking 
figure,  and  the  plateau  likewise  was  free  save  for  those 
racing  squads  before. 

The  sun  sank  behind  Warrior  Peak ;  the  outlines  of 
the  guardian  showed  black  and  sharp  against  the  glow. 
Apparently  he  had  not  stirred ;  he  had  not  turned  over, 
nor  sat  up;  he  was  slumbering,  and  if  he  had  spoken 
to  the  Utes  he  must  have  spoken  in  his  sleep. 

The  odor  of  smoke  wafted  from  the  camp;  voices 
and  chopping  sounded;  one  by  one  horses  were 


THE    DUEL   OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    311 

staked  out,  to  graze  at  the  edge  of  the  brush,  on  the 
slope  side.  Dusk  settled;  out  between  camp  and  rim- 
rock  the  Ute  band  had  subsided  from  frantic  racing 
and  jeering,  and  had  located  as  if  for  the  night;  at 
any  rate,  now  the  twinkle  of  their  fires,  in  two  places, 
shone  through  the  gloaming. 

Presently  amidst  the  trees  and  brush  Cherry  has- 
tened, calling :  "  Come  on  in,  Phil.  Mr.  Dan  says  to 
come  on  in  and  eat.  Somebody  else  will  do  the  guard- 
ing." And — "  There  isn't  very  much,"  she  confessed, 
breaking  the  news,  as  he  joined  her.  "  I  expect  you're 
awfully  hungry.  Maybe  we'll  all  have  to  eat  horse, 
Mr.  Dan  says !  But  they  shan't  eat  Pepper !  " 

"  Can  eat  Bonita.  Dawg  air  good,"  proposed  Chet, 
solemnly  and  wearily  following  Molly. 

"  Never !  "  vowed  MoLV.  "  Bonita  is  too  romantic. 
The  way  Phil  got  her  was  -very  romantic,  I  think." 

As  they  passed  in,  toward  the  fire  and  supper,  the 
ranger  and  two  of  the  city  hunters  were  hastening  out, 
for  the  sentry  duty. 

'  You  can  have,"  informed  Cherry,  *"  two  biscuits 
apiece,  and  this  much  of  your  own  meat,  and  one  cup 
of  coffee  instead  of  water,  because  the  water  is  scarce, 
too.  But  if  you  chew  very  fine  and  swallow  very 
slowly,  you  can  make  it  last  longer.  That's  the  way 
Molly  and  I  did!" 

Now  indeed  the  company  were  in  worse  plight  than 
anticipated.  That  the  place  had  been  used  before  was 
evident.  Trees  had  been  felled  to  form  a  barricade 
around  three  sides ;  the  trunks,  many  of  them  crumbled 
away,  still  remained.  Within  the  barricade  was  a 


312  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

tiny  spring,  which  trickled  away  and  was  lost  in  the 
sod — to  reissue,  no  doubt,  below.  There  was  some 
grass,  among  the  trees  and  amidst  the  sage.  But  old 
Dan  was  disappointed. 

"  We  forted  hyar,  sixteen  of  us  trappers,  thirty- 
nine  year  ago,"  he  said.  "  The  spring  war  plenty,  for 
man  an'  beast.  I  ain't  been  hyar  for  over  twenty  year, 
but  last  time  I  came  the  water  war  still  plenty.  Any- 
how, thar  air  no  other  campin'  spot,  safe,  that  we  could 
have  reached  'fore  dark.  Injuns  can't  rush  us  hyar; 
that  air  sartin.  We  air  forted  proper,  'cept  for  grub 
for  ourselves  an'  water  for  animiles.  We  mebbe  can 
eat  some  o'  the  animiles,  but  then  we  air  bad  fixed. 
Travel  afoot  air  pore  travel,  'specially  with  two  gals 
an'  a  wounded  man.  An'  this  cowboy  party  air  short 
of  ammunition,  too !  " 

"  Will  the  Indians  attack  us  to-night,  do  you  think?  " 

"  Nope ;  don't  think  so.  In  my  opinion  one  band  o' 
them  have  voted  to  be  a  peace  band  an'  air  ridin'  off. 
Chief  Billy  war  with  it.  I  see  him.  He  took  what 
members  he  could.  This  t'other  band,  out  yonder,  air 
the  young  men  an'  other  fools  who  want  to  play  at 
fightin'  an'  be  outlaws.  'Tain't  likely  they'll  attack  in 
middle  o'  the  night.  Moon  doesn't  rise  till  late;  an' 
'tain't  Injun  custom  to  attack  'fore  'arly  mornin'. 
But  we'll  keep  guards  out  an'  be  ready.  To-morrow 
we'll  have  to  get  away.  Can't  stay  cooped  up  hyar 
with  no  grub  an'  little  water,  till  our  critters  die  or  we 
eat  'em  an'  air  put  afoot.  Wagh !  " 

Phil  was  rather  relieved  to  learn  that  he  and  Chet 
had  finished  their  guard-duty  for  this  night,  and  might 


THE    DUEL    OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    313 

sleep.  They  were  too  tired  to  pay  much  interest  to  the 
discussion  which  continued,  around  the  campfire,  and 
to  the  strains  of  Indian  chant  as  the  besiegers,  out  to- 
ward the  rim-rock,  danced  and  whooped  and  thus  en- 
couraged themselves.  So  worn  out  were  he  and  Chet, 
that  under  the  buffalo-robe  they  slept  the  night 
through,  without  waking  to  see  if  all  were  well;  and 
were  much  chagrined  and  astonished,  when  they  at 
last  opened  their  eyes,  to  behold  the  morning.  The 
camp  was  safe. 

Then,  as  they  blinked  stiffly,  in  the  gray  chill,  arose 
a  sudden  series  of  exclamations. 

"  Where's  that  black  whiskers  ?  "  It  was  the  sharp 
voice  of  the  ranger. 

"  I  don't  know."  It  was  the  voice  of  one  of  the  city 
hunters. 

"  Here's  where  he  slept,"  continued  the  ranger. 

"  Iss  he  gone?  "  quavered  Gus.  "  I  t'ought  he  wass 
tied." 

"  No ;  not  again.  I  wanted  to  give  him  a  chance,  in 
case  of  trouble.  And  he's  skipped.  Anybody  seen 
him  this  morning?  " 

Nobody  had,  evidently. 

"Aw — !"  stammered  Chet,  as  he  and  Phil  rolled 
out,  to  aid  in  the  search.  "  He's  got  nerve ! " 

"  Suppose  he  figured  he  might  escape  the  Indians, 
but  he  couldn't  escape  the  penitentiary,"  explained  the 
ranger,  after  the  area  of  brush  and  trees  had  been 
thoroughly  ransacked,  without  success.  "  He  knew 
that  I  knew,  and  he  knew  that  what  I  didn't  know  you 
and  Grizzly  Dan  knew.  Well,  he's  just  postponing 


314  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

what's  coming  to  him.  Makes  one  less  to  feed, 
too." 

So  they  had  to  let  the  black  man  go;  for  gone  he 
had,  during  the  night ;  slipping  away,  and  out  between 
the  guards  (probably  by  the  slope  behind),  while  the 
moon  perhaps  was  veiled  by  a  cloud. 

The  horse  guard  attended  to  the  animals.  Red-eyed 
and  stiff- featured,  the  last  shift  of  night  sentries  (the 
Professor,  a  city  hunter,  and  old  Gus  himself)  came 
in,  while  Pete  and  Buster  remained  out  to  watch  the 
Indians  as  well  as  the  animals,  during  breakfast. 

"Those  Injuns  air  some  in  doubt,"  declared  old 
Dan.  "  They  sorter  suspect  they  air  takin'  a  big  con- 
tract, to  start  out  on  the  war-trail  in  this  hyar  day  an' 
age.  So  they  air  of  two  minds,  like  the  wolf  lookin'  at 
bait  set  atop  a  trap.  Wagh !  Hear  'em  palaverin'  an' 
dancin'!  It  air  fun  for  the  young  bucks.  They 
think  they  air  doin'  a  heap,  when  they  airn't  doin' 
nothin' !  " 

The  Indians  were  in  about  the  same  positions  as 
they  had  been  when  dusk  fell ;  out  there,  in  two  camps, 
across  the  plateau  toward  the  rim-rock.  Having  taken 
a  survey,  through  the  misty  atmosphere  now  being 
thinned  by  the  eastern  glow,  the  boys  might  sit  at 
breakfast. 

Breakfast  was  not  more  lavish  than  the  supper;  in 
fact,  it  was  even  slimmer,  for  the  flour  was  about  gone 
and  the  water  was  not  responding  to  the  demands,  and 
old  Dan's  venison  and  the  other  parties'  bacon  had 
divided  poorly  among  fourteen  and  thirteen  persons. 
But  they  chewed  and  sipped  without  complaint  from 


THE   DUEL   OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    315 

even  the  girls.     In  fact,  Cherry  and  Molly  proved  en- 
tirely matter-of-fact  and  brave. 

"What  a  yarn  to  tell  when  we  get  home!"  ex- 
claimed one  of  the  city  hunters.  "  Held  up  by  Indians 
in  the  Rocky  Mountains — reduced  to  short  rations— 
almost  had  to  kill  the  horses — fought  our  way  out— 
etc.,  etc.  Used  to  read  about  such  things  when  I  was 
a  boy,  but  never  expected  to  take  part.  Always  wanted 
to,  though!  Confound  it,  if  we'd  only  saved  some  of 
that  ammunition,  now !  " 

"  How  are  you,  Gus  ?  "  asked  Phil. 

"  Well,  I  am  not  very  good,"  said  Gus.  "  My  leg 
iss  bad.  It  iss  the  leg  of  the  same  foot  that  wass 
frozen  part  off,  and  it  does  not  like  to  be  hurted  twice 
or  more."  Gus  evidently  was  in  much  pain. 

"  Let  me  see,  again,"  suggested  one  of  the  city  hun- 
ters. c<  That  leg  ought  to  have  a  doctor,"  he  reported, 
after  examination. 

"  We'll  have  to  get  out  o'  hyar,"  spoke  old  Dan,  de- 
cisively. "  We  will,  that.  When  a  camp  air  failin'  o' 
grub  an'  water  an'  part  of  it  air  failin'  o'  powder  an' 
lead  too,  times  air  hard." 

"  Mebbe  I  cannot  ride  a  hoss  with  dis  leg,"  hazarded 
Gus,  reflectively.  "  It  hurts  even  to  t'ink  of  riding." 

"  Make  a  litter  for  'ee,"  returned  old  Dan. 

"  Oh,  dear !  "  murmured  Cherry. 

The  voice  of  Buster  called,  from  outside,  "  Injuns 
are  comin' ! " 

"  Wagh !  "  ejaculated  old  Dan ;  and  right  and  left 
everybody  seized  his  gun,  to  rush  to  the  front.  Thus 
they  crashed  through  the  brush,  and  gained  the  edge 


316  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

of  the  timber  patch,  whence  from  the  barricade  of 
trunks  and  limbs  old  and  new  they  could  see  out  into 
the  open. 

The  sun  was  just  up,  casting  his  golden-pink  beams 
athwart  the  sagy,  gravelly  plateau.  Across  it  were 
advancing,  in  solid  front,  a  line  of  Indians,  their  ponies 
almost  touching.  Behind  them  glowed  the  red  rim- 
rock  wall.  Some  of  the  ponies  were  white,  some 
dark,  some  spotted ;  the  Indians  bore  weapons, — chiefly 
guns,  a  few  bows;  all  were  naked  from  the  waist  up, 
the  majority  painted  and  feathered;  they  were  sing- 
ing a  hearty  chant  which  weirdly  rose  and  fell, 
as  onward  the  ponies  ambled,  in  that  knightly,  stately 
line.  The  horsemen  numbered  forty;  the  sight  was 
imposing  and  threatening;  along  the  stockade  rifle- 
locks  clicked — and  sounded  from  Cherry  (she  and 
Molly  excitedly  peeping)  a  round  "  Goodness  gra- 
cious !  " 

"  Steady,  thar !  "  warned  old  Dan.  "  This  air  no 
time  for  shootin'.  Those  Injuns  air  up  to  somethin' 
else." 

A  lone  Indian  was  leading  the  line.  His  white 
pony  pranced;  even  at  the  distance  could  be  seen  that 
his  face  was  bright  vermilion;  and  from  his  crown 
down  his  back  floated  and  jostled  a  great  crest  of 
feathers.  It  was  not  Chief  Billy;  no,  it  was  not  fat 
enough  for  Chief  Billy,  who  anyway  had  gone  with 
the  peace  band.  Suddenly  he  lifted  a  hand,  as  if  in 
token ;  the  line  stopped,  but  out  he  galloped,  on  as  for 
the  fort. 

"  Wagh !    Viejo  Cheyenne,"  informed  old  Dan;  and 


THE    DUEL    OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    317 

he  warned,  again:  "  No  shootin'.  Steady,  now.  Let 
him  come." 

Yes,  Viejo  Cheyenne,  the  old  Cheyenne  adopted  by 
the  Utes,  it  was. 

"Got  on  a  war-bonnet,"  said  Chet  "See  it?  I 
know;  I've  heard  dad  tell.  Those  are  eagle  feathers. 
Wagh !  " 

"Wagh!"  echoed  Phil. 

"  Oh,  are  they,  Chet  ?  How  romantic !  "  murmured 
Molly,  who  with  Cherry  was  crouched  close  behind 
the  boys. 

The  feathered  crest  was  plainer — and  a  magnificent 
crest  it  was,  of  long  feathers  set  butt  in  and  sewed  to- 
gether in  a  wide  strip  which  extended  from  the  crown 
of  the  rider  to  the  haunches  of  the  horse.  And  now 
could  it  be  seen  that  only  one  half  of  the  Cheyenne's 
face  was  vermilion;  the  other  half  was  black.  He  was 
armed  with  bow  and  quiver  and  a  pure  white  round 
shield.  Abruptly  he  halted,  two  hundred  yards  away, 
and  his  strong  voice  boomed  across  to  the  rude  fort. 
A  striking  figure  he  made,  in  the  morning  sunlight. 

Out  from  the  barricade  promptly  leaped  old  Dan, 
and  stood  fearlessly  in  the  open.  "  Ten-o-wast,  Woo- 
potsit?"  he  demanded.  ("What  is  wanted,  White 
Wolf?") 

Again  the  aged  Cheyenne  boomed  with  words  which 
sounded  like  a  challenge,  in  which  the  syllables  "  Hib- 
bo-lo !  Hib-bo-lo !  "  and  old  Dan's  Indian  name  of 
"  Vip-po-nah  (Lean  Chief)  "  seemed  repeated.  This 
was  followed  by  a  staccato  harangue — every  part,  al- 
though foreign  all,  being  clearly  distinguishable 


318  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

through  the  crisp,  calm  air.  Grizzly  Dan  spoke  back ; 
the  Cheyenne  spoke  further.  With  quick  gesture  of 
his  hand  old  Dan  answered  shortly.  Then  he  turned 
to  face  the  company  behind  him. 

"  Don't  reckon  any  o'  ye  understand  Cheyenne,"  he 
proffered  gravely,  as  he  stood  with  rifle  butt  upon  the 
ground,  while  the  muzzle  jutted  above  his  shoulder. 
"  But  this  hyar  White  Wolf  an'  me,  we  air  'bout  to 
have  a  leetle  scrimmage,  to  settle  matters." 

"What!" 

"  Yep.  The  spirit  of  Old  Four-Toes  the  b'ar  an' 
the  spirit  o'  the  mountain  don't  exactly  agree  on 
whether  this  hyar  country  air  ready  yet  for  the  Injun, 
or  no;  but  Four-Toes  has  told  White  Wolf  to  fight 
it  out  with  me,  an'  we'll  decide  it." 

"  WTon't  permit  it,  won't  permit  it!  "  cried  the  city 
hunters,  excitedly.  And  other  voices  joined  in  as 
emphatically. 

"  What  all  did  he  say?  "  queried  Pete,  curiously. 

"  It  air  sense.  We  air  both  old,  an'  we  have  outlived 
people  an'  country,  an'  we  air  'bout  the  only  ones  left. 
Let  us  fight,  he  said,  'stead  o'  you  young  others,  an' 
lives  will  be  saved.  That  thar  black-whiskered  rascal 
air  in  the  Injun  camp,  an'  they  know  we're  short  o' 
grub  an'  water,  an'  shy  o'  powder  an'  lead." 

"The  traitor!" 

"  That's  how  he  saves  his  skin,  is  it !  " 

"  Think  o'  that,  will  yuh !  " 

Thus  loud  welled  the  angry  chorus  denouncing  the 
black  man. 

"  But  you  must  fight  no  duel,  just  the  same.     The 


THE    DUEL    OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    319 

idea  is  preposterous,"  uttered  the  Professor,  much  con- 
cerned. "  We  cannot  allow  it." 

"  Should  say  not,"  chimed  in  all.  "  Don't  you  do 
it,  Dan." 

But  amidst  the  arguments  and  pleadings  old  Dan 
merely  smiled;  and  turning  again,  he  shouted  a  sen- 
tence or  two  at  the  aged  Cheyenne,  waiting,  statuesque, 
where  he  had  halted.  Vie  jo  Cheyenne  answered  by  a 
single  dignified  gesture. 

"  I  have  told  him  I  air  comin',"  announced  Grizzly 
Dan,  simply.  "  It  air  an  easy  way  to  settle  matters. 
We  air  in  a  fix,  anyhow.  A  march  acrost  country  with 
short  rations  an'  gals  an'  a  wounded  man,  fightin' 
young  warriors  armed  like  these  hyar  fellows  air 
armed,  doesn't  shine  with  this  coon.  No,  it  don't. 
Hosses  air  beat  out,  too.  It  air  an  ancient  custom  to 
decide  a  battle  by  pussonal  combat  'twixt  two  chiefs, 
an'  soon  as  I  get  my  pony  I'll  see  if  I  can't  fetch  in  that 
thar  war-bonnet.  Wagh !  "  He  strode  for  the  horses. 

"Here!  Stop  him !"  cried  several  voices.  Buster 
and  Pete  hastened  after. 

"  Aw,  you  can't  stop  him,"  informed  Chet,  as  dis- 
tressed as  any,  but  knowing  the  old  trapper's  stubborn 
character. 

And  nobody  did;  for  within  a  shorter  time  than 
might  have  been  expected  Grrzzly  Dan,  followed  by 
the  helpless  twain,  came  trotting  his  pony  along  the 
edge  of  the  timber  fort. 

"  Isn't  it  dreadful !  "  sighed  Cherry,  well-nigh  weep- 
ing. 

"  Too  horribly  romantic,"  sobbed  Molly. 


320  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Grunting  with  pain,  Gus  dragged  himself  forward 
from  where,  back  by  the  fire,  he  had  been  propped. 

"  Mister  Dan,  you  wait,"  he  called  weakly.  "  I  fight 
him.  I  t'ink  I  be  half  dead  already,  so  I  fight  him. 
You  lend  me  your  hos." 

"  Wagh ! "  reproved  old  Dan,  to  the  company. 
"  Would  you  have  me  a  squaw,  an'  let  an  Injun  dare 
me  to  come  out  an'  take  his  scalp?  I  air  a  mountain 
man,  wagh!  I  air  Vip-po-nah;  I  war  a  big  chief 
'mongst  the  Cheyenne  nation  'fore  you  war  born. 
White  Wolf  knew  what  he  war  doin'  when  he  called 
for  me.  We  air  both  chiefs,  an'  we  will  fight.  Then 
when  I  fetch  in  his  war-bonnet  his  young  men  will  go 
one  way  an'  we  all  will  go  another.  An'  if  he  raises 
my  ha'r,  instead,  you  will  not  be  harmed,  but  I  reckon 
you  will  have  to  turn  back  for  t'other  side  the  moun- 
tain. That  air  the  agreement." 

"  But,  by  thunder — !  "  expostulated  o*e  of  the  city 
hunters. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  Grizzly  Dan,  impatiently ;  he 
whirled  his  spotted  pony  and  rode  forth. 

At  the  sight  of  him,  from  the  line  of  mounted  In- 
dians pealed  instant  again  the  chant;  but  high  above 
it  rang  the  quavering  whoop  of  the  Cheyenne,  an- 
swered in  equal  quaver,  like  the  howl  of  a  wolf,  by  old 
Dan. 

Now  the  Cheyenne  was  singing  a  martial  rhythm; 
and  with  white  shield  set  and  body  cowering  behind,  he 
had  lashed  his  white  pony  to  a  run,  in  course  diagonal 
to  old  Dan's.  Into  a  run  leaped  the  spotted  pony  of 
the  trapper;  his  long  rifle  leveled — the  two  hundred 


THE   DUEL    OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    321 

yards  swiftly  lessened.  Everybody  in  the  stockade 
breathed  hard.  The  two  hundred  yards  were  only 
one  hundred,  only  seventy-five.  The  white  pony 
swerved,  Grizzly  Dan  suddenly  dodged  low,  even  with 
the  saddle,  a  streak  appeared  to  pass  across,  right  above 
him,  and  the  dull  "  Twang !  "  of  the  Cheyenne  bow- 
string drifted  to  the  fort. 

"Missed  him!" 

Old  Dan  straightened;  short  stopped  his  spotted 
pony — Sally  the  long  rifle  leaped  to  his  shoulder,  the 
muzzle  puffed  white,  but  down  completely  out  of  sight 
behind  his  speeding,  scurrying  mount  had  Vie  jo 
Cheyenne  thrown  himself,  only  his  white  shield  left, 
to  cover  his  pony's  neck.  As  he,  too,  straightened  into 
the  saddle,  his  shrill  whoop  of  defiance  pealed  exultant. 

"  Missed !    Oh,  shucks !  "  deplored  Chet. 

Around  pivoted  the  white  pony ;  on  came  the  Chey- 
enne, his  head-dress  streaming,  his  shield  slipped  high, 
his  bow  bent.  *  Twang !  "  it  sounded ;  the  arrow, 
another  streak,  cut  the  spotted  pony's  mane,  so  close 
it  passed  the  neck.  Old  Dan,  clinging  with  moccasined 
heels,  lying  low  along  the  saddle  as  he  scudded,  was 
frantically  reloading.  The  Cheyenne  pursued. 

"  Oh,  hurry !  Hurry !  "  cried  Cherry,  dancing  up 
and  down,  calling  to  old  Dan. 

"Twang!  Twang!"  So  fast  worked  the  bow, 
speeding  arrow  after  arrow !  The  white  pony  was  the 
better — for  the  spotted  pony  was  still  tired  and  had 
been  under-watered,  under-fed.  The  white  pony  drew 
on  rapidly;  the  bow  twanged;  the  withered  face  of 
White  Wolf  could  be  seen,  fierce  and  avid,  as  he  plied 


322  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

his  weapon — loosing  string,  plucking  arrow,  bending 
bow,  and  loosing  string  again. 

"  Oh,  hurry !     Hurry !  "  implored  Cherry. 

Now  in  mid-course  old  Dan  turned  in  his  saddle, 
aiming  backward ;  the  long  barrel  of  Sally  leveled  like 
a  finger — Viejo  Cheyenne  loosed  one  last  shaft  and 
flung  before  him  his  shield  as  he  swerved  his  pony. 
The  arrow  pelted  into  the  twisted  left  side  of  old 
Dan,  and  stood  quivering  under  the  leveled  barrel — 
but  as  behind  his  buckler  the  chief  cried  triumph, 
the  muzzle  of  Sally  spoke.  Before  ever  the  smart 
"  Crack !  "  reached  the  breathless  fort,  down  plunged 
the  white  pony,  and  lay  kicking. 

"  Hurrah !  Hurrah !  "  cheered  the  forted  company 
all. 

"  Wagh !  "  approved  Chet,  smiting  Phil  on  the  shoul- 
der. "  That  air  some  shooting!  " 

"  It  shore  air,"  agreed  Phil. 

From  his  fallen  pony  Viejo  Cheyenne,  agile  as  any 
spider,  had  extricated  himself ;  his  head-dress  went  far, 
but  he  had  clung  to  bow  and  shield ;  and  now  scram- 
bling to  his  feet,  fitting  arrow  to  string,  singing  a  wild 
chant  he  ran  straight  for  Grizzly  Dan.  Grizzly  Dan 
was  reloading.  How  quick  were  his  motions !  He  did 
not  use  ramrod;  he  tilted  powder-horn  (muzzle  of 
rifle  held  low),  he  primed  pan,  and  from  his  lips  he 
dropped  the  bullet  into  the  bore!  He  carried  bullets 
in  his  mouth !  The  arrow  was  in  his  side,  but  he 
checked  his  spotted  pony  and  swung  Sally  upon  Viejo 
Cheyenne. 

Puff,  and  "  Crack !  "  Viejo  Cheyenne  called  loud, 


THE    DUEL   OF    THE    TWO    CHIEFS    323 

and  staggered;  but  now  he  ran  again,  singing,  bow 
twanging.  Ah!  The  spotted  pony  reared  and  stum- 
bled— was  it  hit? — and  Grizzly  Dan  pitched  sideways, 
to  drag  a  few  yards,  to  lose  his  rifle,  and  finally  to  fall 
sprawling.  Away  dashed  the  pony. 

"  Look  out !    Dan !    Dan !  "  they  called  vainly. 

"By  jiminy!"  exclaimed  one  of  the  city  hunters. 
"  Pot  that  Injun,  one  of  you  good  shots." 

"  Yu  shut  up !  "  ordered  Buster,  sharply.  "  It's  their 
fight." 

From  the  line  of  Indians  distant  welled  a  paean  of 
savage  joy.  Vie  jo  Cheyenne  threw  aside  bow  and 
shield  (a  gallant  action)  and  drawing  knife  rushed 
faster.  His  gray  locks  floated  back  from  his  painted 
temples. 

"  Dan !  Dan !  Look  out !  "  wailed  the  forted  com- 
pany. 

Dan  realized  all.  He  raised  himself  upon  an  elbow, 
and  fumbled  hastily  at  his  belt.  The  old  Cheyenne 
was  within  thirty — twenty  feet.  How  set  were  his 
wrinkled  features,  how  scowling  were  his  eyes,  how 
grim  his  curving  mouth! 

"  Vip-po-nah !  Vip-po-nah!"  and  "Woopotsit! 
Woopotsit !  "  he  was  chanting,  mingling  Dan's  title 
and  his  title  with  other  words. 

At  twenty  feet  he  was.  Terribly  near!  His  knife 
was  plain  in  his  right  hand.  Now  suddenly  the  right 
hand  of  old  Dan,  propped  on  his  left  hip  and  hand, 
jerked  back — and  forward;  his  own  knife  darted 
through  the  air  (scarcely  was  it  seen),  and  landed 
upon  the  Cheyenne's  breast  with  distinct  "  Thud ! " 


324  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

Vie  jo  Cheyenne  faltered,  mid-stride;  staggered,  and 
momentarily  standing  straight  and  stiff,  clapping 
hand  to  mouth  for  one  last,  tremendous,  tremulous 
whoop,  fell  face  down,  moving  not  again. 

Old  Dan  rose  to  a  knee,  and  lifting  high  an  arm  as 
signal  of  victory,  gave  a  long  halloo. 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

TWO   OTHER   OLD    HEROES 

Now  the  combat  was  two  days  back.  A  slowly 
moving  little  cavalcade  again,  the  two  boys  and  Grizzly 
Dan,  the  horses,  Betty  the  dun  mule,  and  Bonita  the 
black  sheep-dog  were  traveling  for  the  cabin.  The 
other  parties,  taking  Gus,  were  traveling  in  the  op- 
posite direction  for  the  world  outside. 

At  old  Dan's  shout  of  victory,  when  oncoming 
Vie  jo  Cheyenne  had  stopped  and  fallen,  there  had 
been  a  simultaneous  rush  from  either  side,  for  the 
field.  The  combat  was  ended;  and  Viejo  Cheyenne, 
known  in  his  youth  as  Woopotsit,  White  Wolf,  no 
longer  was  an  exile  among  the  Utes.  He  had  shown 
the  Utes  how  a  Cheyenne  could  fight,  and  he  had  gone 
to  join  his  kindred  and  friends. 

The  Utes,  wailing,  had  borne  off  his  lax  body;  and 
gathering  head-dress,  bow,  shield,  and  quiver,  the  dele- 
gation from  the  fort  had  borne  off  old  Dan.  Only  the 
white  pony  was  left,  stripped  of  his  trappings,  there 
upon  the  field. 

The  trapper's  wound  was  severe  but  not  fatal.  The 
arrow  had  struck  him  in  the  left  side,  but  had  turned 
upon  the  ribs,  and  had  made  a  long  rather  than  a  deep 
hole.  Under  Dan's  directions  they  had  pushed  the 
arrow  on  a  few  inches,  for  the  head  was  barbed  and 

325 


326  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

could  not  be  pulled  backward ;  and  having  cut  off  the 
shaft,  they  extracted  the  head  by  the  new  place  where 
the  point  appeared.  The  spotted  pony  also  was 
wounded;  an  arrow  from  Viejo  Cheyenne  afoot  had 
struck  it  in  the  shoulder,  causing  it  to  rear;  and  this 
arrow,  too,  had  to  be  extracted — "  butchered  out,"  as 
old  Dan  expressed  it. 

As  had  been  promised,  the  combat  being  decided  in 
favor  of  the  whites  the  Indians  had  withdrawn,  and 
the  trail  out  of  the  park  was  open.  Grizzly  Dan  had 
insisted  upon  being  taken  to  the  cabin;  and  of  course 
the  timber  patch  was  no  place  for  any  of  them  to  stay 
in,  unless  forced.  So  to  Cherry  and  Molly  had  been 
awarded  Viejo  Cheyenne's  war-bonnet, — a  wonderful 
creation  of  eagle  feathers  sewed  to  buckskin  cap  and 
red  flannel  tail-piece  six  feet  long.  Phil  had  been 
given  the  shield, — a  buckler  of  thick,  stiff  cowhide 
painted  with  white  clay.  Chet  had  been  given  the  bow 
and  quiver, — the  bow  being  of  short,  thick  hickory, 
reinforced  with  rawhide  glued  upon  the  back. 

"  He  war  a  true  warrior  an'  he  died  like  a  chief," 
commented  old  Dan,  as  with  the  boys  he  painfully  rode 
along.  "  That  war  his  death  chant  you  heard,  for  he 
war  already  killed.  *  Lean  Chief,  Lean  Chief,'  he 
sung,  after  I  shot  that  last  time,  '  you  have  killed  me, 
but  I,  White  Wolf,  come  to  take  you  with  me.  Lean 
Chief,  Lean  Chief!  White  Wolf !  White  Wolf !  We 
have  shown  the  young  men  how  the  old  men  met  in 
battle  when  we  too  were  young.  I  come,  Lean  Chief. 
Wait  a  minute.  I,  White  Wolf,  who  am  already  killed, 
I  come.'  Wagh !  "  and  Grizzly  Dan  shook  his  head. 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES         327 

"  I  knew  Sally  had  gone  plumb  center,  for  I  drew  bead 
as  fine  as  ever  I  drew ;  but  like  a  chargin'  b'ar  he  only 
staggered  a  bit ;  his  spirit  \var  too  big  an'  too  brave  to 
stop  when  his  heart  stopped ;  his  medicine  war  strong, 
heap  strong,  an'  carried  him  along.  It  did.  He  'most 
raised  my  ha'r.  Ought  not  to've  tumbled  off  my  hos, 
that  way;  ought  to  rosin  my  legs,"  and  old  Dan 
chuckled.  "  Will,  next  time.  Legs  don't  work  like 
they  used  to." 

Travel  was  slow.  Dan  rode  Betty  the  mule,  for  the 
spotted  pony,  limping,  could  scarcely  carry  its  own 
weight.  Upon  Betty,  at  a  walk,  old  Dan  sat  stiffly 
bandaged,  but  with  his  rifle  still  across  horn.  For  the 
first  day  they  had  to  cook  and  eat  steaks  from  the 
white  pony ;  and  as  he  was  plump  and  young  and  ten- 
der, the  chunk  which  at  old  Dan's  suggestion  they  had 
taken  with  them  did  not  taste  as  horse-flesh  might  be 
presumed  to  taste.  But  on  the  second  day  they  had 
come  upon  several  of  Gus's  scattered  sheep,  so  that 
now  they  were  provisioned  with  mutton. 

The  course  was  back  by  way  of  the  Red  Man's 
Gulch  (as  they  had  grown  to  term  the  spot  of  the  first 
tragedy),  where  they  had  cached  their  equipment  ere 
riding  by  night  to  warn  and  rescue.  Here  were  wait- 
ing (they  hoped)  Chet's  Indian  skull  and  Phil's  Frapp 
rifle  and  Dan's  beloved  pot — and  minor  other  articles. 
And  who  could  tell  but  that  the  traitorous  black  man 
might  there  be  sighted — might  there  be  sighted  and 
perhaps  rearrested  and  held  and  informed  as  to  what 
the  party  thought  of  him.  Indeed,  he  might  be  drawn 
back  to  the  spot,  looking  for  his  comrade's  grave,  and 


328  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

he  might  further  be  mean  enough  to  "  lift "  the  cache 
if  he  found  sign  of  it! 

However,  impatient  as  were  the  boys,  and  as  was  old 
Dan  himself,  to  arrive  at  the  cache,  and  thence  make 
for  the  cabin,  a  rate  of  walk  and  amble  and  rest 
mingled  did  not  cover  the  ground  as  quickly  as  had 
that  outward  hard,  constant  trot  up  hill  and  down, 
through  the  long  night. 

But  now  as  they  rode  old  Dan  pointed  ahead,  and 
announced  cheerfully,  "  Over  yon  ridge  air  the  place." 

"  Don't  believe  we  can  make  it,  this  afternoon,  can 
we?  "  asked  Chet.  "  I  hear  thunder." 

So  did  Phil — a  low,  rumbling  mutter.  And  old  Dan, 
reining  in,  cocked  his  ear. 

"  Wagh!  "  he  murmured.  He  scanned  the  horizon 
over  the  engirting  trees  and  crests.  "  Wagh !  Now, 
whar  do  that  storm  be  comin'  from  ?  That's  no  thun- 
der, I  tell  'ee.  That's  no  thunder,  I  tell  'ee.  It  air 
bull,  boy!  It  air.  This  coon's  heard  sech  thunder 
afore.  You  foller  me.  Mebbe  I'll  show  you  some- 
thin'." 

Aside  from  the  trail  they  turned.  At  more  sprightly 
pace  old  Dan  pushed  through  among  the  trees;  and 
after  him  pushed  the  others  all — Chet,  and  Phil,  and 
Cotton-tail,  and  the  limping  spotted  pony,  and  Bonita 
panting.  The  rumbling  indeed  waxed  louder,  as  if  old 
Dan  might  be  right  (as  usual).  They  climbed  ob- 
liquely a  shoulder  which  from  the  left  jutted  into  the 
draw  that  they  had  been  threading.  The  rumbling 
grew  more  and  more  pronounced.  Across  the  rounded 
top  of  the  shoulder  they  filed.  Midway  old  Dan 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES          329 

swerved  for  an  upturned  stump.  The  boys  could  easily 
see  that  this  was  not  a  natural  upturning;  for  although 
the  stump  was  ancient  and  decaying,  more  than  wind 
or  weather  had  wrenched  it  to  its  side.  The  rotted 
wood  lay  scattered  round  about;  the  great  stump  had 
been  torn  asunder;  and  in  the  soft  earth  which  had 
fallen  from  the  roots  or  had  heaved  along  with  them, 
was  a  familiar  imprint.  But  it  was  not  the  imprint 
of  any  split  hoof;  it  was  the  imprint  of  a  huge  naked 
sole,  with  only  four  toes  where  five  should  be! 

Grizzly  Dan  silently  pointed,  but  he  shook  with  a 
chuckle.  The  boys  gravely  nodded. 

"  Thought  it  war  'bout  time  we  come  acrost  medi- 
cine sign  agin,"  vouchsafed  old  Dan.  "  That  air  Four- 
Toes,  sartin." 

"  But  you  said  bull,"  reminded  Phil.  "  What's  the 
rumble,  then  ?  " 

"  Show  ye,  show  ye,"  answered  old  Dan,  blithely. 
"  Shouldn't  wonder  if  I  showed  'ee  more'n  I  'spected  to 
when  I  started  out.  Wagh!  Thar  air  trouble  yon- 
der." 

And  he  started  on. 

The  rumbling  was  distinct,  ahead — as  if  really  a 
thunderstorm  might  be  preparing,  under  cover,  as  a 
band  tunes  up  and  makes  ready  before  a  parade  starts. 
But  the  horizon  gave  no  indication  of  any  storm. 

Grizzly  Dan,  apparently  unmindful  of  his  wound, 
and  much  interested,  traveled  at  a  trot  across  the 
rounded  shoulder,  which  was  thinly  timbered  and 
warm  in  the  sunshine.  At  the  edge  of  the  farther 
slope  he  reined  in,  to  peer  eagerly,  and  then  turned  at 


330  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

right  angles,  and  rode  along  the  verge.  Finally  he 
raised  his  hand  and  waved  the  boys  to  him,  and  rode 
slowly,  and  halted  again,  sitting  at  ease  and  gazing 
down  as  if  playing  spectator. 

They  hastened.  The  rumbling  mutter  was  continu- 
ously loud ;  it  was  nearer ;  and  it  had  a  curious  under- 
strain  of  harsher  note,  heard  meanwhile.  They  reined 
in  beside  Grizzly  Dan,  and  peered  also. 

The  ground  fell  away  in  a  shortish,  smooth  slope, 
to  a  basin,  or  shallow  box  canon  below,  forming  a 
pocket  hemmed  by  shelving  rock,  clay  bank,  brush,  and 
the  slope  itself.  Against  the  shelving  rock  was  backed 
an  enormous,  shaggy  creature — a  buffalo  bull!  And 
before  him,  swaying  on  four  feet  and  evidently  menac- 
ing him,  was  another  enormous,  shaggy  creature — a 
bear! 

There  welled  to  the  spectators  the  mingled  notes  of 
bellow  and  growl,  so  furious  that  the  sound  was  a 
constant  rumble. 

"  Thar  you  air,"  announced  old  Dan.  "  This  chile 
knows  bufFler  when  he  hears  him.  Thar's  yore  bull 
— an'  thar's  Four-Toes  himself.  Wagh!  It  air  a 
bigger  combat  than  when  Woopotsit  an'  I  fout  our 
leetle  scrimmage." 

The  boys  gazed,  panting  and  amazed.  The  horses 
roundly  snorted,  in  alarm.  But  the  twain  below  were 
so  intent  upon  one  another  that  the  presence  of  human 
spectators  mattered  not  at  all  to  them. 

By  token  of  the  torn,  trampled  sod  of  the  arena,  the 
duel  had  been  in  progress  for  some  time.  Evidently 
the  big  bear  had  been  foraging  along,  over  the 


FOUR-TOES    GAVE    AN    UNDIGNIFIED    JUMP    AT    A    TANGENT." 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES          331 

shoulder,  where  he  had  upturned  that  stump,  and  by 
accident  sighting  the  big  bull  in  the  warm,  cosy  re- 
treat of  the  little  basin,  had  irritably  descended  upon 
him.  Now  the  bull  was  backed  against  the  shelving 
rock  end ;  he  was  at  bay. 

His  curly-fronted  head,  with  its  shortly  curved 
horns  half  hidden  in  the  thick  brown  hair,  was  down; 
his  eyes  were  staring;  his  tongue  hung  from  his  mouth, 
dripping  froth;  and  at  the  rear  of  his  tapering,  low- 
set  body  his  short  little  tail  stood  out  as  if  broken  in 
the  middle.  His  bellowing  was  hoarse  and  incessant, 
and  with  a  fore  hoof  he  flung  high  the  dirt. 

So  this  was  the  old  buffalo  bull,  last  of  his  wild  race 
in  Lost  Park,  was  he!  But  nevertheless  it  was  upon 
the  bear  that  the  boys  gazed  the  more  curiously.  He 
was  Four-Toes,  the  famed  Four-Toes,  had  said  old 
Dan.  As  large  for  a  bear  as  the  bull  was  for  a  buffalo 
appeared  Four-Toes.  His  head  also  was  down,  sway- 
ing as  swayed  his  body,  and  he  snarled  harshly, 
wrinkling  savage  nose  and  lips.  The  fur  along  his 
back,  particularly  between  his  fore  shoulders,  was 
erected  into  bristles.  Of  a  blackish  gray  was  he,  burly 
and  lumbersome,  compact,  low  to  the  ground,  but  of 
the  size  of  a  Jersey  cow.  At  least,  enraged  and 
swollen,  he  looked  to  be  that  size. 

Suddenly,  as  he  stood  swaying  and  snarling,  the  bull 
made  a  rush  at  him.  It  was  astounding  how  quickly 
the  bull  sprang  forward,  moving  that  solid  bulk  with 
ease.  And  Four-Toes  was  as  nimble.  Sprily  as  any 
heavy-weight  boxer  he  leaped  to  one  side,  as  he  did  so 
recoiling  to  his  hind  feet  and  striking  like  a  cat.  With 


332  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

a  blow  that  appeared  a  mere  tap  he  had  sent  the  mas- 
sive bull  sliding  and  sprawling.  Instantly  he  charged 
after — but  the  old  buffalo  was  alert  to  the  danger. 
Even  while  staggering  he  checked  himself,  and  with  a 
frantic  snort  and  bellow  whirled  upon  four  feet  as  a 
pivot  (no  dancer  could  have  been  more  agile) ;  and 
the  charging  bear  was  met  by  the  lowered  horns  again. 
Whereupon  Four-Toes  gave  an  undignified  jump  at  a 
tangent.  Charged  the  bull — but  only  as  a  feint,  for 
thus  he  regained  his  position  where  the  shelf  rock 
protected  his  weak  rear. 

So  now  the  two  combatants  resumed  their  original 
posts. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  Grizzly  Dan.  "  Those  two  old 
fools!  They'd  better  quit." 

"  Do  you  think  the  bear  will  kill  him?  "  panted  Phil, 
somehow  siding  with  the  buffalo. 

"  If  he  hits  him  fair  I  bet  he  will,"  panted  Chet,  as 
breathless.  "  One  whack  will  break  his  neck." 

"Wall,  I  dunno,"  drawled  old  Dan.  "  Buffler 
bull's  neck  air  pretty  tough,  under  all  that  ha'r.  He 
doesn't  keer  for  his  neck;  it  air  his  hinder  end  that 
bothers,  mostly.  An'  his  nose.  Let  a  b'ar  onct  get  a 
paw  on  his  back,  or  a  grip  on  his  nose,  an'  he  air  gone 
bufFler." 

"  Wish  they  would  quit,"  exclaimed  Phil,  fervently. 

"Why?  It's  a  fair  fight!"  protested  Chet,  more 
bloodthirsty. 

"  They  air  liable  to  fight  for  a  week,  if  they  want 
to/'  declared  Grizzly  Dan.  '  That  air  a  medicine 
b'ar,  an'  that  must  be  a  medicine  bufFler ;  an'  as  long 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES         333 

as  their  medicine  air  strong,  they  can  fight  an'  fight. 
Like  as  not  they  have  font  before,  'cause  they  have 
lived  together  in  this  hyar  park  some  time.  It  air  a 
sorter — what  you  call  it  ? — tournament.  Wagh ! !  " 

This  concluding  syllable  was  called  forth  by  a  sud- 
den increase  of  the  bellowing  and  snarling  below.  The 
tumult  rose  to  crescendo.  Four-Toes  had  tilted  himself 
to  his  hind  feet,  as  if  for  attack;  the  bull  threw  more 
soil,  defying  him;  Four-Toes  dropped,  stalked  a  few 
steps,  seeking  an  opening,  snarled  fiercer  and  fiercer, 
and  rushed.  High  he  towered,  reaching  over — and  by 
a  mighty  spring  sideways  evading  the  thrust  of  the 
anxious  horns,  he  caught  the  buffalo  with  fore  arms, 
over  and  under,  around  the  shaggy  neck,  and  clung, 
hauling  and  biting.  Around  were  twisted  the  black 
nose  and  the  red  tongue  and  the  staring  eyes.  The  buf- 
falo's bellow  was  choked  and  wheezy,  as  he  strained 
and  wrenched  and  tugged,  bracing  his  fore  feet,  striv- 
ing to  toss  his  head  and  free  himself.  Down  he  sank, 
to  his  knees,  as  if  to  roll  upon  the  bear  and  crush  him. 
He  sank,  the  bear  slightly  shifted — when  as  if  renewed 
in  strength  by  the  touch  of  the  earth  the  bull  straight- 
ened those  yielding  legs,  and  by  a  violent  bellow  and 
wrench  swung  his  burden  more  before  him;  and  only 
by  releasing  hold  and  with  a  smothered,  disappointed 
roar  leaping  backward  did  Four-Toes  escape  the  horns. 

Forward  charged  the  buffalo;  now  he  caught  the 
great  bear  off  balance,  and  with  a  distinct  grunt  from 
the  impact  as  shaggy  boss  met  shaggy  flank,  Four- 
Toes,  overtaken  in  hasty  retreat,  went  head  over  heels 
a  dozen  yards. 


334  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  Hurrah !  "  cheered  Phil.  "  Rush  him !  Rush  him, 
bull !  Now's  your  chance." 

"  Look  out,  bear !  "  warned  Chet. 

Four-Toes  had  gathered  himself  up  and  like  a 
monstrous  cat  had  whirled  to  protect  his  own  rear. 
His  snarling  growl  rose  furious.  The  buffalo  had 
halted ;  instead  of  following  up  his  advantage  he  stood, 
panting  and  murmuring.  Plainly  enough  both  animals 
were  badly  winded,  for  the  sides  of  the  big  bear  were 
heaving  and  his  growling  waned  to  a  peevish  whine. 

"  Better  get  back,  bull,"  admonished  Phil. 

"  Better  both  quit  while  their  medicine  air  strong," 
observed  old  Dan. 

But  even  as  the  spectators  upon  the  hill  watched 
and  warned,  a  strange  thing  happened.  The  big  bear 
slowly  settled,  as  if  tired;  slowly  settled,  while  he 
whined,  until  with  his  four  legs  under  him  now  he 
was  upon  his  stomach,  his  nose  outstretched  along  the 
ground  before  him.  His  whine  ceased  and  he  seemed 
to  be  asleep.  The  buffalo  bull  bellowed  joyously  and 
took  a  hesitant  step,  for  a  charge.  But  he  faltered, 
while  lower  drooped  his  nose;  his  legs  also  doubled 
under  him ;  and  he  sank  with  his  chest  to  the  ground. 
Then,  accompanied  by  a  grunt,  down  toppled  his  hind 
quarters;  and  he  rolled  upon  his  side,  where  he  lay 
lax. 

"Aw— tuckered  out!"  jeered  Chet.  "One  can't 
and  the  other  isn't  able !  " 

"  That's  a  drawn  battle,"  commented  Phil,  but  not 
certain. 

"  Wagh !  "  muttered  old  Dan.    "  Medicines  war  too 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES         335 

strong."  He  started  Betty.  [<  This  chile's  goin'  down 
thar." 

They  followed.  Betty  objected,  but  old  Dan  forced 
her  ahead;  and  objected  Medicine  Eye  and  Pepper, 
but  their  riders  forced  them  likewise  ahead.  Cotton- 
tail and  the  limping  spotted  pony  reluctantly  came 
after,  their  ears  pricked,  their  nostrils  quivering.  And 
last  came  Bonita,  hair  bristled,  body  slinking,  nose 
querying. 

Neither  of  the  prostrate  animals  moved  a  muscle,  at 
the  approach  of  the  party.  Old  Four-Toes  lay  like  a 
dog  asleep ;  the  buffalo  bull  lay  like  a  lazy  horse  prone 
in  a  field.  Grizzly  Dan  forced  Betty  nearer,  and  cran- 
ing his  neck,  finally  halted,  waiting  for  the  boys. 

"  Wagh ! "  he  said,  still  eying  the  two  animals,  as 
the  boys  cautiously  and  expectantly  arrived.  "  Hyar's 
fat  meat  an'  no  pot  to  cook  it  in !  Hyar's  great  doin's ! 
I  tell  'ee,  you'll  never  see  the  like  agin." 

"  Both  asleep !  "  exclaimed  Phil. 

"  Yep;  but  you  needn't  tread  light,  for  fear  o'  wakin* 
'em.  An'  you  can  uncock  yore  gun.  'Sleep,  boy?  Do 
'ee  see  'em  breathe?  They  air  wiped  out,  natteral; 
they  air  gone  for  good." 

"  Well !  What  do  yuh  think  o'  that !  "  exclaimed 
Chet,  round-eyed.  "  Fought  till  they  couldn't  stand, 
an'  then  lay  down  and  died,  facing  each  other." 

"  Don't  see  any  wounds,"  commented  Phil. 

Grizzly  Dan  painfully  dismounted,  and  passed  his 
bridle  lines  to  him.  "  Nope,  airn't  any  to  speak  of,  I 
reckon,"  he  said.  Fearlessly  he  bent  over  the  big  bear 
carcass,  and  lifted  the  limply  hung  head.  "  Lookee 


336  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

hyar,"  he  bade,  as  he  parted  the  pendent  upper  lip. 
"  Jest  as  I  suspected.  No  teeth !  Wagh !  He  war 
too  old,  an'  his  tusks  air  worn  down  to  stumps.  That 
air  why  he  war  always  huntin'  ants  an'  grubs ;  an'  that 
air  why  he  didn't  hurt  that  'ere  buff'ler.  Lemme  see 
that  'ere  buff'ler,  now.  He  air  old,  too."  And  from 
the  bear  he  trudged  to  the  bull.  He  investigated,  and 
parted  the  curly  hair  from  the  horns.  "  Same  case 
hyar,"  he  reported.  "  Horns  air  stubs  so  blunt  an' 
busted  they  wouldn't  dent  a  board.  Mought  knock  the 
breath  out  o'  somethin',  but  couldn't  gore.  That  air 
why  he  couldn't  hurt  the  b'ar.  An'  as  they  couldn't 
hurt  each  other,  they  fout  till  they  war  all  in,  an'  then 
they  died  anyhow.  They  war  too  old." 

Off  their  horses  tumbled  the  two  boys ;  and  fastening 
the  lines  to  the  brush,  examined  the  fallen  monarchs. 
Here  was  the  celebrated  Four-Toes,  to  be  felt  of  and 
inspected  and  appraised;  and  here  was  the  last  of  the 
buffalo,  to  be  felt  of  and  inspected  and  appraised. 
What  bulks,  what  hair,  what  claws,  what  heads  and 
hoofs !  What  years  of  roving ! 

"  Going  to  cut  'em  up,  or  anything?"  asked  Chet, 
excited.  "  Ought  to  take  part  of  'em  along,  oughtn't 
we?  Ought  to  have  the  pelts.  Wouldn't  fine  us  for 
eating  buffalo  meat  or  packing  out  his  head,  would 
they?  Big  old  claws  on  Four-Toes,  too!  Wagh!  " 

"Old  b'ar  an'  old  bull,"  replied  Grizzly  Dan, 
thoughtfully  surveying,  as  he  leaned  upon  his  long 
rifle.  "  Pelt  o'  one  air  no  good,  meat  o'  t'other  air  no 
better.  Leave  'em  lie,  boy;  leave  'em  lie.  We  won't 
stick  knife  into  'em,  or  tech  'em  to  muss  'em  up.  Leave 


TWO    OTHER    OLD    HEROES         337 

'em  hyar,  as  they  be.  They've  arned  the  right  to  be 
let  alone,  an'  keep  their  scalps.  Injuns  don't  scalp  old 
men  or  bravest  men;  an'  we  air  white  Injuns.  What 
good  would  it  do  you  to  take  pelt,  claw,  or  horn? 
We  respected  'em  livin',  an'  we'll  respect  'em  dead. 
Leave  'em." 

So  they  rode  away ;  and  amidst  the  sunset  beams  the 
mighty  Four-Toes  and  the  last  of  the  buffalo  lay 
peaceful  and  asleep  upon  the  torn  sod  of  the  secluded 
little  basin.  The  chances  were  that  no  human  being 
would  find  them,  to  desecrate  their  venerable  frames. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   GOLD-MINE    MAP 

AGAIN  White  Injun  Camp  is  occupied ;  for  the  day 
after  the  bloodless  battle  of  bear  and  buffalo  the  party 
arrived  in  the  Gulch  of  the  Red  Man,  and  found  the 
cache  undisturbed.  No  black  man  was  in  sight;  no 
black  man  had  left  traces;  and  with  glad  hands  Chet 
resurrected  his  historic  skull  and  Phil  his  historic 
rusted  rifle  and  old  Dan  his  historic  precious  pot. 
These,  with  the  other  "  possibles,"  were  packed  anew 
upon  Cotton-tail  and  the  spotted  pony  (lightly  upon 
the  latter),  and  the  trail  was  taken  for  the  shack.  On 
the  second  afternoon  the  cavalcade  filed  out  from  the 
edge  of  the  timber,  before  which  were  the  little  park, 
and  the  warm  pool  and  the  cabin,  all  waiting.  No 
intruders  had  been  here. 

"  Wagh !  "  grunted  Grizzly  Dan,  eagerly,  his  keen 
old  eyes  scanning  for  sign.  "  Hyar's  home.  Now  for 
pot  on  fire.  I  air  half  froze  for  biled  meat.  This  coon 
air  wolfish,  he  air." 

The  willing  animals  were  turned  loose,  and  led  by 
Betty  the  mule  trotted  away,  to  roll,  to  drink,  and  to 
nose  about  for  the  best  grass.  Speedily  the  cabin  was 
strewn  once  more  with  the  furs,  and  the  bunks  were 
piled  soft  and  warm;  the  hanging  of  shield  and  bow 
ought  to  have  come  next,  but  before  the  fire  which  he 
had  made  old  Dan  grumbled  querulously. 

338 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP  339 

"Need  more  water,"  he  announced.  "Wagh!  It 
air  pot  time,  not  sleep  time.  Fust  fill  yore  meat-bags ; 
then  can  fix  up  the  lodge.  Do  'ee  want  to  starve?  " 

So  they  must  fall  to,  in  this  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon, and  help  get  the  meal  of  mutton. 

Indeed,  as  old  Dan  had  said,  this  snug  little  park, 
with  the  battered  log  shack,  and  the  flowers  and  grass 
and  hot  and  cold  springs  and  warm  pool,  surrounded 
by  the  evergreen  forest,  with  slumbering  Warrior 
Peak  close  over  and  with  the  crimson  crest  of  Red 
Chief  up- jutting  above  the  leagues  of  rolling  timber 
in  the  opposite  direction,  was  home  for  the  wandering 
white  Injuns.  And  here  they  stayed,  resting  from  the 
trail  and  the  scout,  until  old  Dan  should  be  whole  and 
well  and  ready  for  more  adventures. 

Dan  mended  not  rapidly.  His  active  outdoor  life 
had  rewarded  him  with  marvelous  energy ;  but  he  was 
eighty  years  of  age.  The  hard  riding,  and  the  anxiety, 
and  the  shock  of  his  fall  and  his  wound  made  him 
content  to  sit  in  the  sun  before  the  cabin  door.  He  did 
muster  strength  to  steal  off  to  his  "  corral "  and  bring 
back  the  inevitable  deer;  for  he  would  risk  no  danger, 
could  he  avoid  it,  of  being  "  wolfish  "  without  remedy 
therefor.  He  never  was  unable  to  eat,  was  old  Dan. 

As  for  the  boys,  they  easily  occupied  themselves, 
climbing  the  peak  and  exploring  it  from  end  to  end, 
scouting  through  the  timber,  bathing  in  the  pool,  living 
the  white  Injun  life  of  buckskin  and  moccasins. 

Thus  the  weeks  passed,  with  astonishing  ease.  Then 
the  even  existence  was  broken  by  two  events  which 
supplied  fresh  excitement. 


340  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

The  rusted  rifle  of  Frapp  the  trapper  captain  was 
handled  frequently.  Old  Dan  had  scoured  it  and  oiled 
it,  the  best  that  was  practicable,  so  that  even  the  locks 
were  freed.  Hammer  could  be  raised  to  cock;  trigger 
set  and  pulled;  whack!  But  the  bore  was  so  rusted 
and  the  powder  passage  from  pan  to  chamber  so 
clogged,  that  they  did  not  dare  to  load  the  gun  and 
fire  it.  However,  the  stock  and  the  outer  metal  were 
scoured  clean;  but  although  the  brass  lid  in  the  stock 
was  scraped  and  polished,  also,  they  were  unable  to 
open  it. 

Nevertheless,  there  in  the  stock  was  revealed  plainly 
the  letter  '  F  ' ;  and  there  in  the  lock-plate  was  revealed 
the  word  "  Hawkins."  So  a  regular  "  Hawkins  rifle  " 
was  this;  and  it  had  belonged  to  the  trapper  captain 
Frapp  and  had  taken  part  in  the  big  "  scrimmage  "  at 
Battle  Mountain.  Wagh! 

Oft  they  fondled  it;  Chet  even  chose  it,  at  times, 
instead  of  his  cherished  skull;  and  Chet  it  was  who, 
late  one  afternoon,  returned  from  a  "  scout/'  and 
casually  picking  up  the  old  piece  discovered  its 
secret. 

"  Here !  "  he  cried  gleefully.  "  I've  got  the  patch- 
box  open!  And  there's  something  inside." 

Phil  ran  to  him. 

"  How'd  you  do  it  ?    What  is  it— patches  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  pressed  on  a  spring.  Secret  spring — see  ? 
That's  what  was  the  matter — spring  held  it  tight,  is 
all.  Yes ;  guess  they're  patches.  Wait  a  minute,"  and 
Chet  pried  carefully,  with  knife-blade,  while  Phil 
jealously  watched. 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP 

Old  Dan  joined  them,  where  they  sat  at  the  thresh- 
old. He  squatted,  white  Injun  fashion,  near. 

'  That  air  so,"  he  nodded.  "  It  air  one  o'  those  thar 
guns  with  a  secret  spring  patch-box,  or  cap-box  when 
they  got  to  usin'  caps.  Remember  now;  I'd  forgot. 
Shorely  it  war.  But  that  airn't  all  patches,  boy. 
Keerful,  now." 

Chet  had  pried  out  of  the  round  shallow  cavity  a 
hard-pressed  layer,  stiff  and  thickish,  like  doubled 
yellow  paper.  A  few  yellowed  linen  wafers  stuck  to 
it;  they  were  patches,  but  it  was  of  different  texture 
from  them. 

"  Let's  see,"  invited  Phil,  as  Chet  gingerly  handled 
it ;  and  Chet  passed  it  along. 

It  felt  greasy;  for  the  grease  of  the  patches  had 
soaked  the  cavity,  and  the  brass  lid  had  been  absolutely 
tight.  But  it  was  stubborn,  with  folds  so  tightly 
pressed  that  they  seemed  cemented. 

"  Lemme  have  that,"  bade  old  Dan,  and  he  took  it  in 
his  gnarled  fingers. 

"  Hide,  it  air,"  he  announced.  "  A  piece  o'  hide 
scraped  thin  an'  'iled,  I  reckon.  Wagh,  now! 
Mebbe  if  this  coon  works  slow  he  can  open  it  up.  He 
suspects  it  mought  be  the  map  o'  that  thar  gold 
mine." 

Cautiously  he  limbered  the  folds,  and  spread  them 
further  and  further.  The  material  was  tough;  it 
yielded,  until  upon  his  knee  he  had  spread  the  sheet, 
deeply  creased  but  at  their  service. 

"  Say—!  "  ejaculated  Chet.     "  Is  it?  " 

"  It  air — or  map  o'  somewhar  else." 


342  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"Wagh!"  applauded  Phil.  "We  weren't  up  to 
trap,  or  we'd  have  found  it  before." 

"  Time  enough,  time  enough,"  crooned  old  Dan, 
poring  over  the  sheet,  while  the  boys  gathered  closer. 

It  was  oiled  skin  or  hide,  traced  with  black  and  red 
lines  faint  upon  the  yellowed  surface.  Old  Dan 
transferred  it  to  the  threshold,  as  a  flatter,  more  solid 
place,  and  they  all  held  it  down,  although,  sooth  to  say, 
it  was  not  more  than  six  inches  square. 

"  Thar,"  quoth  Dan,  pointing  with  trembling  old 
finger.  "  See  that?  That  air  Red  Chief  Mountain." 

"  Looks  like  a  volcano,"  commented  Phil,  studying. 

"  It  air  Red  Chief.  'Cause  why?  'Cause  that  what 
you  take  for  smoke  is  a  feather,  boy — a  red  feather 
stuck  atop  what  means  to  be  a  mountain.  Feather  air 
sign  o'  chief,  an'  color  says  '  Red  Chief.'  Trappers' 
maps  didn't  waste  words.  Yon's  the  trapper  trail, 
'round  the  mountain;  an'  hyar  air  the  two  lakes;  an' 
hyar  is  a  hand  pointin'  down,  at  a  leetle  cross  nigh  up 
to  top  o'  the  second  saddle.  An'  hyar's  a  pair  o' 
thumpin'  big  goat  horns,  with  three  curls  to  'em. 
Wagh !  Never  saw  goat  horns  o'  that  size." 

"  That  shore  is  some  map,"  declared  Chet,  solemnly. 

"  Better  go  there,  hadn't  we  ? "  proposed  Phil, 
eagerly. 

"  I  air  a  trapper,  I  air  a  mountain  man,  wagh !  " 
answered  old  Dan,  slowly.  "  We  never  paid  much 
attention  to  sech  things  as  minerals.  We  war  after 
pelts,  an'  the  sign  we  looked  for  war  beaver,  an'  wood 
an'  water  an'  meat,  an'  hostiles.  Gold  warn't  wuth  the 
carryin'  'round;  lead  war  our  mineral — lead  for 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP  343 

bullets ;  an'  iron  an'  steel,  as  traps.  This  hyar  mine  o' 
Frapp's  war  lyin'  up  thar  all  those  years.  He  come  on 
it  by  accident,  but  I  reckon  he  never  went  back.  It 
war  an  old  Spanish  mine,  I  heard  tell,  worked  'fore 
white  men  entered  the  country.  Frapp  never  went 
back ;  he  kept  after  the  beaver.  An'  now  I  air  old  an' 
won't  have  much  use  for  gold  if  I  get  it." 

"  Do  you  think  we  could  find  the  mine  ?  Could  you 
help  us,  if  you  don't  want  it  yourself?  "  queried  Phil. 
Of  course,  his  gun  had  contained  the  map,  but  some- 
how he  felt  as  though  old  Dan,  as  brother  trapper  to 
the  bygone  Frapp,  was  entitled  to  the  mine,  first. 

"  That's  a  mighty  big  mountain  to  prospect  over," 
mused  Chet,  doubtfully,  gazing  off  at  the  bright  crest 
of  Red  Chief. 

"  I  war  thinkin',"  resumed  old  Dan,  still  slowly.  "  I 
air  no  prospector;  beaver  sign  air  my  sign,  not  float 
sign.  But  I  reckon  my  day  as  trapper  air  past.  This 
park  air  not  what  it  used  to  be.  Buff'ler  all  gone, 
Four-Toes  he  air  gone;  campin'  parties  comin' 
through,  even  gals  an'  tenderfeet ;  an'  sheep  air  grazin' 
on  the  pastures  o'  the  elk  an'  deer.  I'll  go  with  ye, 
I'll  go  with  ye,  if  you  want  to  try  that  'ere  mountain. 
But  I  never  war  on  it;  I've  always  heard  it  air  heap 
mountain,  full  o'  tough  places  an'  queer  sign,  an'  we 
trappers  let  it  alone,  mostly.  But  I'll  go  with  ye ;  only 
you  must  give  me  a  leetle  time  to  make  my  medicine 
strong.  That  'ere  arrow  wound  somehow  went 
deeper'n  it  looked  to  go,  an'  my  pony  airn't  done 
limpin',  either.  Besides,  we  ought  to  feed  up,  plenty, 
fust "  (he  had  been  eating  five  times  a  day  for  over  a 


344  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

month!),  "  an'  we  ought  to  make  meat,  to  carry  'long, 
in  case  meat  air  scarce  up  thar  on  top." 

So  it  was  agreed.  While  old  Dan  rested  further, 
they  turned  to  upon  the  venison  and  proceeded  to 
"  jerk  "  it,  or  dry  many  strips  of  it  in  the  sun.  And 
then,  when  preparations  were  well  along,  occurred 
another  delay ;  for  Bonita  disappeared,  a  second  time ! 

Wolves  were  not  about,  howling  and  inviting.  The 
wolves  evidently  were  hunting  elsewhere.  Neverthe- 
less, at  evening  no  Bonita  could  be  found  in  camp; 
amidst  the  dark  no  Bonita  responded  to  calls  and 
whistling ;  and  no  Bonita  had  appeared  at  morning. 

Now  this  was  odd,  and  alarming;  and  although  old 
Dan  maintained,  with  great  assurance :  "  Don't  you 
worry.  She'll  come  back;  "  adding,  with  his  chuckle: 
"But  not  afore  she's  ready!"  they  diligently  sought 
her.  The  camp  was  not  camp  without  Bonita's  sharp 
nose  and  bright  eyes  and  pattering  feet  and  silky  black 
coat. 

To  find  one  black  sheep-dog  in  fifty  or  more  square 
miles  of  timber  and  mountain  and  canon  is  uncertain 
work.  The  days  passed;  and  while  old  Dan,  with 
persistent  reiteration  that  "  She'll  come  back,  when  she 
air  ready,"  stayed  close  to  the  cabin,  Phil  and  Chet 
rode  and  trudged  the  country  round  about.  It  seemed 
to  Phil  that  he  himself  had  explored  every  inch  within 
two  miles  of  the  shack ;  but  no  Bonita,  no  silky,  bright- 
eyed,  lovable  Bonita,  was  sighted;  no,  nor  any  trace 
of  her. 

On  the  fourth  day  after  the  disappearance  he  was 
riding  the  brush  amidst  the  timber,  when  quite  by 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP  345 

accident  he  turned  Pepper  into  a  miniature  draw  that 
ran  like  a  shallow  arroyo  for  a  few  rods.  It  was 
carpeted  thick  with  fallen  leaves  of  the  squaw-berry 
and  sumac  bushes.  Here  Pepper  snorted,  with  ears 
pricked;  halted,  and  stared;  and  peering  through  the 
bushes  Phil  descried  a  black  bunch. 

Phil  cocked  his  carbine,  and  reining  Pepper  strove  to 
get  a  better  view.  Was  this  wolf?  Or  Bonita,  dead! 
No,  not  dead,  for  it  moved. 

"  Bonita !  "  he  spoke.  "  Why,  Bonita!  Is  that  you, 
girl  ?  Here !  Come  here !  " 

At  the  words  the  black  bunch  stirred  more,  and 
from  it  now  pointed  a  familiar  sharp  nose,  surmounted 
by  two  bright,  friendly  eyes.  It  was  Bonita!  But 
sick  ?  Wounded  ? 

Down  from  Pepper  tumbled  Phil,  and  stepped 
hastily  forward. 

Bonita  was  lying  luxuriously  curled  in  a  nest  of 
leaves  and  dried  grass,  protected  by  the  brush,  at  the 
head  of  the  little  draw;  she  merely  wagged  her  tail 
and  did  not  rise ;  but  she  was  not  ill  nor  wounded.  Her 
excuse,  dumbly  proffered,  was  four  helpless,  squirm- 
ing, whimpering  things  which  to  her  probably  were  the 
most  beautiful  babies  that  ever  were  born;  and  Phil 
was  inclined  to  agree  with  her  assertion  as  indicated 
by  tail-wags  and  nosings.  They  did  not  look  at  all 
like  her  (yet),  and  whether  they  resembled  their 
father,  he,  Phil,  was  unable  to  judge. 

Now  when  Phil  spread  the  glad  news,  there  was  a 
great  howdy-do. 

"  Wolf  pups,  eh  ?  "  commented  old  Dan.    "  Wall,  I 


346  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

told  'ee  she  war  goin'  to  come  back  when  she  war 
ready."  And  he  too  rode  out  to  inspect  her. 
"  Wagh !  "  he  addressed.  "  Heap  squaw !  Heap 
young  warriors ! "  Whereat  Bonita  seemed  much 
pleased. 

"  She's  been  white  Injun  for  herself — doing  her 
own  foraging.  See?"  commented  Chet,  pointing  to 
rabbit-fur  in  the  leaves  near  her. 

"  Wonder  if  they'll  be  mostly  wolf  or  mostly  dog?  " 
hazarded  Phil.  "  Hard  to  tell  which,  yet." 

"  Wolf  strain  air  the  strong  strain,  in  dawg  an' 
wolf  mixed  breed,"  answered  old  Dan.  "  Injun  dawgs 
air  gener'ly  part  wolf.  So  war  our  trapper  dawgs, 
after  a  time.  O'  course,  these  hyar  pups'  daddy  war 
black  wolf,  I  reckon,  so  they  won't  look  much  different 
from  black  sheep-dog  pups,  ornery  kind." 

"  Can  we  take  them  into  camp?  Eyes  aren't  open," 
said  Phil. 

"  Better,  if  you  want  to  save  'em,"  recommended  old 
Dan.  "  Weasel  or  cat  or  other  varmint's  liable  to  get 
'em,  when  the  mammy's  absent  foragin'." 

So  Phil  and  Chet,  Bonita  anxiously  hovering  by, 
needs  must  take  each  a  pup  under  arm,  and  trudge 
with  them  a  mile  through  the  brush  (an  undignified 
proceeding  for  buckskinned,  moccasined  white  Injuns) 
for  camp ;  ever  and  anon  stopping  to  set  the  pups  down 
so  that  Bonita  might  smell  them  and  see  that  they 
were  all  right.  In  camp  the  little  family  was  cosily 
quartered  upon  gunny  sacks,  under  a  thatching  of 
boughs,  dose  against  the  cabin  wall. 

This  was  all  very  lovely;  but  by  not  having  con- 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP  347 

suited  the  other  inmates  of  the  camp,  before  she  had 
the  babies — by  not  telling  of  her  own  plans,  Bonita  had 
seriously  interfered  with  the  general  plans.  For  how 
was  it  possible  to  start  off  now  and  explore  Red  Chief? 
Could  they  take  a  mother  and  four  babies  along  ?  No ! 
Nor  could  they  leave  her.  Again  no !  Not  for  a  gold 
mine  would  Phil,  or  Chet,  or,  you  may  believe,  would 
old  Dan  himself,  have  left  Mamma  Bonita  and  her 
babies  to  struggle  for  existence  amidst  the  infested 
wilds  of  Lost  Park. 

"  Aw — what  are  we  going  to  do  ?  "  queried  Chet, 
puzzled.  "  Thought  she  had  more  sense  than  that ; 
didn't  you  ?  " 

"  All  we  can  do  is  wait,  I  suppose,"  answered  Phil, 
regretfully.  "  But  it  sure  would  be  hard  luck  if  after 
sixty  years  somebody  discovers  that  gold  mine  while 
we're  stuck  here  waiting  for  pups  to  grow." 

"  Yes ;  like  as  not  that  black  man  is  trying  to  trail 
it  down.  Don't  want  to  forget  him,"  reminded  Chet. 
"  He  lifted  that  battle-field  cache,  you  know." 

"  Wall,  I  tell  'ee,"  proposed  old  Dan.  "  Pups  air 
pups,  an'  you  can't  hurry  'em.  It'll  be  eight  weeks 
'fore  they  air  able  to  travel  't  all.  I  war  thinkin',  any- 
how, we  airn't  outfitted  for  prospectin'.  Need  picks, 
an'  mebbe  candles  if  we  explore  old  workin's,  an'  sech 
things;  an'  more  coffee  or  tea  an'  like  provisions 
wouldn't  be  a  bad  idee.  If  you  two  boys'll  go  out,  an' 
get  proper  stuff,  I'll  stay  hyar  an'  keep  the  lodge-fire 
bright  an'  help  raise  those  thar  pups.  I  airn't  right 
pert  even  yet;  an'  my  pony  airn't  right  pert;  but  by 
time  you  get  back  we'll  be  dancin'  medicine.  Yep,  we 


348  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

will.  Whoooop!  Ow-ow-gh!  Hay-ah-hay! "  and 
old  Dan  took  a  few  dance  steps. 

"  That  will  give  me  a  chance  to  write  to  my  folks — 
or  I'll  telegraph  them  first — and  say  that  we're  all  alive 
and  happy,"  said  Phil,  quickly.  "  By  the  time  this 
Indian  scare  gets  into  the  Eastern  papers  it'll  be  a 
regular  massacre!  The  folks  may  want  me  to  come 
home  for  a  week,  or  else  meet  them  in  Denver.  I  can 
be  looking  up  things  for  the  new  outfit,  too." 

"  And  I  ought  to  tell  dad  about  the  scrimmage ;  he'll 
be  worried,"  admitted  Chet.  "  He's  off  on  the  range 
and  he'll  hear  all  sorts  of  rumors.  He's  fought 
Injuns,  himself.  I  can  tell  him  about  Gus's  sheep  in 
here,  too.  Might  run  some  of  ours  in  the  park,  next 
year,  if  we  don't  go  to  ranching." 

So  was  it  decided,  that  the  two  boys  should  go  out — 
but  should  come  back. 

"  Hyar !  "  bade  old  Dan,  in  the  midst  of  the  hasty 
preparations.  "  Can't  go  out  bar'.  That  airn't  white 
Injun  way.  Ought  to  have  a  pack  o'  pelts."  And 
from  his  cache  he  hauled  out  the  rolls  of  furs  and 
lavishly  threw  aside  skin  after  skin.  "  Take  these, 
an'  you  needn't  be  ashamed,  an'  nobody  can  p'int  finger 
an'  say:  *  Wagh!  Pore  mountain  men  those  thar  be. 
Airn't  up  to  trap,  'cause  they  come  out  empty.' ' 

"But  those  aren't  ours;  they're  your  skins,"  pro- 
tested the  boys.  "  Keep  them.  You'll  need  them." 

Old  Dan  was  obstinate  in  his  generosity. 

"  Take  'em,  take  'em,"  he  ordered.  "  I  got  more. 
Don't  'ee  know  how  the  shack's  loaded  with  'em  a 
foot  deep  ?  Wagh !  What  use  I  got  for  so  much  fur, 


THE    GOLD-MINE    MAP  349 

nowaday?  Powder  an'  lead,  lectio  coffee  an'  flour,  an* 
I  air  fixed.  No;  take  'em  along  to  the  settlements, 
companeros,  an'  use  'em  as  you  like." 

"  We  can  buy  some  of  the  stuff  for  the  outfit  with 
'em,"  proposed  diet.  But  he  knew,  and  Phil  knew, 
that  one  of  those  fine  pelts,  so  softly  tanned  and 
dressed,  would  be  worth  more  than  all  the  picks  and 
provisions  they  could  pack.  Such  furs  were  for  gifts, 
not  for  sale. 

"  Sartin ;  trade  'em  in.  That's  what  they  air  for : 
to  trade  in  for  powder  an'  lead  an'  coffee  an'  a  pint  or 
two  o'  sugar,  beads  an'  brass  an'  red  cloth  an' 
blankets,"  approved  old  Dan. 

Strange  did  it  feel  to  don  again  stiff  boots  and 
flimsy  overalls  or  thick  corduroys,  and  binding  hats. 
But  thus  must  they  two  dress;  for  moccasined,  buck- 
skin-clad, 'kerchief-turbaned  hunters  did  not  to-day 
ride  the  trails  into  the  "  settlements." 

"  Wagh!  "  giggled  Chet.  "  People'd  take  us  for  a 
Wild  West  show !  " 

They  shook  hands  with  old  Dan,  and  swung  aboard 
the  saddles.  Bonita  wistfully  whined.  Fain  would 
she  go  along — but  she  knew  that  she  must  not. 

"  Never  mind,  girlie.  You  stay  and  be  good  doggie 
and  have  those  kids  big  and  strong  for  the  gold-mine 
trail,  when  we  get  back,"  instructed  Phil,  reaching 
down  to  pat  her. 

"  We'll  be  back  in  three  or  four  weeks,"  called  Chet, 
as  they  started,  to  old  Dan 

f  We'll  make  a  smoke,  as  soon  as  we  get  in,  to  let 
you  know  we've  come,"  engaged  Phil. 


350  OLD    FOUR-TOES 

"  All  right.  At  the  fourth  week  I'll  be  watchin'," 
promised  old  Dan. 

Headed  now  toward  Red  Chief  and  the  canon  trail 
and  the  outside  country,  from  the  farther  edge  of  the 
little  park  they  waved  hand,  once  more,  at  old  Dan, 
standing,  a  tall,  picturesque  figure,  Bonita  beside  him, 
before  the  doorway  of  the  log  cabin.  Then  into  the 
timber  they  plunged,  at  trot,  Chet  leading,  Phil  in 
rear,  Cotton-tail  (reluctant  to  part  from  Betty  and  the 
spotted  pony)  between  them.  They  had  left  much  of 
their  "  plunder,"  that  they  might  travel  fast  and  light ; 
they  took  their  buffalo  robe  and  a  few  pounds  of  jerked 
venison  and  the  pelts  upon  Cotton-tail.  They  asked  no 
help ;  they  knew  that  they  would  get  through ;  for  they 
were  white  Injuns — tanned  and  hearty  and  inde- 
pendent, the  real  thing. 


The  Great  West  Series 


THE  BOY  SETTLER;  or,  Terry  in  the  New  West 

In  the  frontier  days  of  the  West,  when  Terry 
Richard  drove  his  ox  team  across  the  plains,  he 
opened  to  himself  and  his  boy  reader  friends  a  wide 
sweep  of  adventures — all  narrated  so  naturally  and 
realistically,  that  you  feel  they  must  have  been  true. 

THE  GREAT  PIKE'S  PEAK  RUSH ;  or,  Terry  in  the 
New  Gold  Fields 

Terry  and  his  dog,  Shep,  accompany  Harry  Re- 
vere on  a  six  hundred  mile  trek  across  to  Colorado, 
spurred  on  by  the  lure  of  gold.  It  is  the  great 
"Pike's  Peak  or  Bust"  rush  of  1859,  when  boys  were 
called  upon  to  play  the  part  of  men. 

ON  THE  OVERLAND  STAGE;  or.  Terry  as  a  King 
Whip  Cub 

Here  we  have  the  next  phase  of  Western  devel- 
opment— in  the  rise  of  the  overland  stage  route 
leading  from  St.  Joe  clear  across  to  Sacramento. 
With  Terry,  who  helps  drive  stage,  we  meet  Buffalo 
Bill,  Sam  Clemens,  and  other  worth  while  people — 
also  some  not  so  much  worth  while,  but  no  less  to 
be  reckoned  with. 

OPENING  THE  IRON  TRAIL;  or,  Terry  in  the  Great 
Railroad  Race 

As  a  logical  sequel  to  the  stage  coach  came  the 
building  of  the  Union  Pacific  Railroad — an  under- 
taking so  fraught  with  danger  and  romance,  that 
no  single  book  could  hope  to  compass  the  entire 
picture.  This  book  is  a  fine  achievement — a  really 
big  story. 


A  Boy  Scout  Story 


PLUCK  ON  THE  LONG  TRAIL;  or,  Boy  Scouts  in  the 
Kockies 

How  a  patrol  of  Boy  Scouts  took  an  important 
message  one  hundred  miles  across  the  Colorado 
mountains,  and  the  perils  they  successfully  with- 
stood, is  the  subject  of  this  lively  story. 


Each  Book  Strikingly  Illustrated 


and  Trail  Series 


BAR  B  BOYS;  or,  the  Young  Cow  Punchers 

Phil,  an  Eastern  boy,  goes  West  to  regain  his 
health.  He  misses  a  train,  is  picked  up  by  Indians, 
joins  a  ranch  of  cowboys,  and  after  a  variety  of 
adventures  learns  to  throw  a  rope  with  the  best 
of  them. 

RANGE  AND  TRAIL  ;  or,  The  Bar  B's  Great  Drive 

Phil  and  his  chum,  Chet,  after  a  hard  winter  on 
the  ranch,  go  with  other  cowboys  to  drive  up  a 
fresh  herd  of  cattle  from  New  Mexico.  Scenes  of 
the  long  trail  are  replete  with  color  and  excite- 
ment. 

CIRCLE  K;  or,  Fighting  for  the  Flock 

The  Bar  B  outfit  go  in  for  raising  sheep,  and 
through  the  medium  of  their  new  adventures  the 
reader  learns  many  interesting  facts  regarding  this 
great  industry.  There  are  thrills  a-plenty,  leading 
up  to  the  introduction  of  Grizzly  Dan,  the  old 
trapper. 

OLD  FOUK-TOES;  or,  Hunters  of  the  Peaks 

Phil  and  Chet  go  with  Grizzly  Dan  on  a  hunting 
trip  among  the  passes,  peaks,  and  precipices  of  the 
Lost  Park  country.  They  have  brushes  with  hostile 
Indians,  and  get  on  the  trail  of  a  famous  grizzly 
bear,  "Old  Four-Toes."  With  them  we  see  another 
graphic  phase  of  Western  life. 

TREASUKE  MOUNTAIN;  or  the  Young  Prospectors 

Here  the  boys  turn  their  attention  in  still  an- 
other important  channel  —  that  of  gold  mining. 
They  set  out  to  locate  a  lost  mine  on  a  Rocky 
Mountain  peak,  and  find  —  but  the  reader  must  fol- 
low their  varied  adventures  for  himself.  It  is  a 
story  of  surprises. 

SCARF  ACE  RANCH;  or,  the  Young  Homesteaders 

Here  we  bid  farewell  to  Phil  and  Chet  and  their 
friends.  The  boys  have  taken  up  another  great 
branch  of  Western  life,  that  of  the  homesteader, 
who  stakes  his  claim,  clears  his  ground,  and  tills 
his  soil.  Like  all  the  preceding  stories,  this  has  a 
wholesome,  inspiriting  flavor. 

Each  Book  Strikingly  Illustrated 


THE  "SILVER  FOX  FARM"  SERIES 

BY   JAMES   OTIS 

THE  WIRELESS  STATION  AT  SILVER  FOX  FARM. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Copeland.    8vo. 

A  bright,  vividly  written  narrative  of  the  adventures  of 
Paul  Simpson  and  Ned  Bartlett  in  helping-  the  former's  father 
start  a  farm  for  raising  silver  foxes  on  Barren  Island,  twelve 
miles  off  the  Maine  coast. 

THE  AEROPLANE  AT  SILVER  FOX  FARM. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Copeland.     8vo. 

An  absorbing  story  of  the  building  and  working  of  an  aero- 
plane on  Barren  Island. 

BUILDING  AN  AIRSHIP  AT  SILVER  FOX  FARM. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Copeland.    8vo. 

Encouraged  by  their  success  in  aeroplane-building,  the  boys 
of  Silver  Fox  Farm  go  in  for  a  full-fledged  airship. 

AIRSHIP  CRUISING  FROM  SILVER  FOX  FARM. 

Illustrated  by  Charles  Copeland.    Svo. 

A  further  account  of  the  marvels  performed  by  the  Silver 
Fox  Farmers,  including  the  story  of  the  thrilling  rescue  of  a 
shipwrecked  yachting  party  by  means  of  their  great  air-cruiser. 


BOY  SCOUT  BOOKS 

BOY   SCOUTS   IN  THE  MAINE  WOODS. 
BOY  SCOUTS   IN  A  LUMBER  CAMP. 

12mOg  illustrated. 

Other  Books  by  JAMES  OTIS 

DOROTHY'S  SPY. 

JOEY  AT  THE  FAIR.  TWO  STOWAWAYS. 

i2mo,  illustrated. 

SHORT  CRUISE. 

HOW  TOMMY  SAVED  THE  BARN. 

OUR  UNCLE  THE  MAJOR. 

Svo,  illustrated. 


THOMAS   Y.   CROWELL   COMPANY 
NEW   YORK 


CIVIL  WAR  STORIES  BY  WARREN  LEE  GOSS 

IN  THE  NAVY,  (7th  Thousand)  Illustrated,  399  Pages,  A  Story 
of  naval  adventures  during  the  Civil  war. 

ilflhc  Marine  Journal*'  says  of  it:  "The  author,  takes  as  usual 
for  his  fiction,  a  foundation  of  reality,  and  therefore  the  story  reads 
like  a  transcript  of  real  life.  There  are  many  dramatic  scenes, 
such  as  the  battle  between  the  Monitor  and  the  Merrimac,  and  the 
reader  follows  the  adventures  of  the  two  heroes  with  a  keen  interest 
that  must  make  the  story  popular  especially  at  the  present  time.*' 

TOM  CLIFTON,  A  story  of  adventures  in  Grant  and  Sher- 
man's armies.  (13th  Thousand)  Illustrated.  480  pages.  12mo. 
cloth, 

"The  Detroit  Free  Press'"  says  of  it,  '  'The  book  is  the  very  epitome 
of  what  the  young  soldiers,  who  helped  to  save  the  Union,  felt, 
endured  and  enjoyed.  It  is  wholesome,  stimulating  to  patriotism 
and  manhood,  noble  in  tone,  unstained  by  any  hint  of  sectionalism, 
full  of  good  feeling;  the  work  of  a  hero  who  himself  did  what  h« 
saw  and  relates." 

JACK  ALDEN:  Adventures  in  the  Virginia  Campaigns. 
1861-65.  (12th  Thousand)  Illustrated,  404  pages. 
llThe  Necw  York  Nation""  says  of  it:  "It  is  an  unusually  interesting 
story.  Its  pictures  of  scenes  and  incidents  of  army  life,  from  the 
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JED.  A  boys  adventures  in  the  army.(  28th  Thousand)  Illu- 
strated, 402  pages.  12mo.  Cloth, 

"The  Boston  Beacon""  among  other  complimentary  remarks  about 
this  book  says:  "Of  all  the  many  stories  of  the  Civil  War  that 
have  been  published — and  their  name  is  legion — it  is  not  possible 
to  mention  one  which  for  sturdy  realism,  intensity  of  interest,  and 
range  of  narrative,  can  compare  with  Jed." 

A  LIFE  OF  GRANT  FOR  BOYS  AND  GIRLS.  Illustrated. 
12mo.  Cloth, 

tlTbe  Christian  Advocate"  (Cincinnati)  says  of  it:  "One  of  the 
best  lives  of  U.  S.  Grant  that  we  have  seen — clear,  circumstantial, 
but  without  undue  and  fulsome  praise.  The  chapters  telling  of 
the  clouds  of  misfortune  and  suffering  over  the  close  of  his  life  are 
pathetic  in  the  extreme." 

THE  BOYS  LIFE  OF  GENERAL  SHERIDAN.  Illustrated 
12mo.  cloth, 

The  "Living  Churh  (Milwaukee)  says  of  it:  "The  story  of  the 
dashing  officer  in  his  war  career  and  also  afterwards  in  his 
campaigns  among  the  Indians,  form  a  thrilling  story  of  American 
leadership.  The  book  contains  a  thorough  review  in  thrilling  language 
of  the  various  campaigns  in  which  Sheridan  made  his  mark." 

Order  from  your  bookseller.  Send  for  Catalogue 

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